Found
by keltatonic
Summary: Post-manga. What if Knives wasn't 'quite' dead. Knives/OC romance. Rated M for some adult content.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't own these characters.

He was dead. Well, not technically, but he might as well be. Everything was gone. His entire purpose for existing had disintegrated, and now he was just a husk of what he had been.

He'd used the last of his energy to create a tree for that boy and his father. He thought it would be his last act; a sort of noble suicide that would redeem some of the pain he'd caused while simultaneously ending his own suffering. But instead of dying, he had simply… disconnected. He was still here. He was still himself… just… floating.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been like this. Time ran differently without the perception of sunrise and sunset. It may have been days or decades. He supposed it didn't really matter, since this seemed to be how he would remain forever. What a horrible fate.

Maybe he deserved it.

If he had lungs, he would have sighed. Instead, he tried to stop thinking—to silence his mind. He focused on his experience, not that he had much to focus on. He had no senses. No sight. No sound. But there was a sort of… flow… around him. It was a gentle motion, almost like a river. There was silence. Or maybe emptiness was a better way to describe it. He was alone. Isolated.

It hurt, to be so alone. Especially after being so closely bonded to his sisters through the ark. And Vash. There had always been a fragile, indescribable threading connection with his brother, no matter how far apart they were. But it was gone now.

He wanted to return so badly—to get away from this unbearable purgatory. As horrible as that world had been, at least he had his family. They probably hated him now. There must have been a great loss of life after the ark split. How traumatic it must have been for them. He hoped they understood why. Why he'd done it. How he'd meant to help.

He'd failed them. He'd been so reckless—so convinced of his superiority that he'd never even considered the possible consequences of his defeat. The humans and his brother had won the final battle. His glorious plan was laid to ruin by a stupid fucking cable and a will of steel.

He'd failed them. The angels… Vash… Tessla. Rem. She'd be so disappointed if she could see him now. He hated her… And he didn't. She'd betrayed him… but… he supposed he'd betrayed her too. She'd loved him and Vash—there was no denying that. Given the chance she would have done everything she could to make up for the abuse that had been inflicted on Tessla.

But he'd taken that chance away from her.

God, he wished this would end—this horrible, never-ending dream—this torturous river of contemplation. He tried to scream but it made no sound.

_Please. Please release me. Save me. Kill me. Anything._

If he had lungs, he would have been sobbing. Instead, he gave up. He let himself fall into despair. This was reality now. This was his punishment. His hell.

He deserved this suffering.

_**Brother. We have found you.**_

A voice! Many whispering voices speaking as one!

_My sisters! I'm here. Please, help me!_

_**We cannot. Only you can help yourself.**_

_But how?_

_**You must open your eyes.**_

_I can't. Please!_

_**You must awaken.**_

_Don't leave me here!_

The silence descended again. Millions Knives fell into panic. He had to do something! This was his chance. He had to open his eyes. He gathered his will into a single, focused point and, with everything he had left, he wrenched forward, fighting against the oblivion.

Suddenly, the world was white. Blindingly white.


	2. Chapter 2

Where was he?

Knives blinked a few times and gradually the whiteness faded into a dim gray. He was in shadow. There seemed to be sunlight coming from above but it was hard to make out. Everything was hazy, as if he was staring through a fog.

He reached forward. A hand! He had hands! And arms! A body!

He laughed, but found that he couldn't. His lungs still weren't working. Neither were his ears, apparently. He was still in a world of silence.

Where the hell was he?

His hand met a smooth, unyielding surface. Glass? Was he in a bulb? That would explain the lungs. And the silence. He made a blade from his arm and punched the glass as hard has he could. He silently cried out in pain when his bare fist hit the solid barrier. There was no blade.

_What the hell?_

He tried to form a blade again, this time watching his arm closely, but nothing happened. He tried desperately to form the angel arm but nothing happened. It was gone. All his energy and power were gone. He was trapped. Again.

He kicked at the glass but he just sent himself floating backward. He needed leverage. At the top of the bulb was the metal mechanism that hooked up to the angels, routing their energy into a series of cables. If he could push against that, maybe he could hit with enough force to break through.

He swam up and crouched against the metal surface, then kicked off it, propelling himself into the glass. Nothing happened. It was useless. _Fuck._

What to do…?

The humans could enter the bulbs, so there must be a doorway somewhere. He'd been unconscious when Dr. Conrad had put him in the bulb after July, but he guessed it was near the top. He was a little angry with himself for not bothering to find out, but it had never seemed important.

He groped blindly at the metal surface that capped the great glass sphere. After several minutes his hands came into contact with a circular object that he hoped was a lever. He fumbled with it for a moment before turning it slowly. A deep mechanical groan echoed through the liquid surrounding him. Knives bore down on the lever again and suddenly the hatch sprang open. Liquid began flowing out of the bulb, spilling onto a metal platform outside along with a disoriented Knives. He landed hard as the slimy fluid continued to wash over him. Eventually it slowed, giving him a chance to sit up and look around.

He was in the husk of a power chamber of one of the crashed ships. He must've ended up in an unused bulb. What the fuck had happened to him? There were rows of shattered glass spheres all around him, reaching up towards the sky.

Wait. He knew this place.

This was Delnashville! The first city he'd taken when he'd started his endeavor to rescue the angels. A cool breeze blew through the open hull, causing him to shiver. He looked down to find himself completely naked.

_That_ would need to be remedied.

He began wandering down the narrow walkway to the ground floor. Delnashville. Elendira had kept him updated on global news during his campaign. The cities he passed through had crumbled quickly without his sisters supporting them. There had been stories of rioting, thieving and cannibalism. Eventually, those who remained had simply died of dehydration. He wondered if the same fate awaited him.

He walked out into the morning sunlight, looking slowly over the surrounding area. The small city lay sprawled before him, stretching forward into the desert. The faint smell of decay perfumed the air. Even here at the power facility, there were a handful of corpses withering under the twin suns. They had been reduced to little more than bones with a thin layer of leathery flesh still clinging to them. He must not have been gone for too long or these bones would have been stripped clean by the sand and heat.

He began making his way slowly into the city, breathing as lightly as he could. If he wanted a chance at surviving he'd had to find some clothes and supplies.


	3. Chapter 3

Knives spent the rest of the day searching through the houses. He found some tan pants hanging on a clothesline along with a tee and a white button up shirt that mostly fit. Guessing that whoever had lived here must be his size, he went inside to search for more clothes. A pair of boots from the closet would suffice for now. They were a little snug, but he could make do. He grabbed a handful of other clothes from the dresser drawers and shoved them into a pack he'd found, smiling at his good fortune.

He was less successful in his search for food and water. In fact, he was entirely unsuccessful. There was nothing left. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised. Of course the people who had been trapped here would have ransacked the entire area in order to feed themselves. It was all they could do.

He spent the night in an empty bed, grateful for a break his fruitless searching. He wished he could continue on at night, avoiding the burning heat of the suns, but the moons were only half full and provided little light. It wasn't worth the risk of injury to continue on in the dark. He fell into a restless sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

The morning sunlight beamed into the bedroom, waking him. His stomach gurgled angrily. He scavenged the bathroom for some toothpaste and rubbed a tiny amount against his teeth with his finger, wishing he had some water to rinse with.

Water. He wouldn't last long if he couldn't overcome _that_ obstacle. His lips were already cracked and his tongue felt swollen. He had maybe another day before he'd collapse. It was just too hot. He glanced at himself in the mirror and was surprised to see a man with jet-black hair staring back at him.

Of course. The hair darkening effect. So he really had used up all his power. Then why was he here? What was the point of returning to life if he was just going to die anyway? He looked down, unable to meet the eyes of the man in the mirror.

He searched for the rest of the morning, stopping for several hours when the suns were at their peak. He rested in a shaded alley where the sand was still cool enough to sit on. His throat was beginning to hurt. He attempted to swallow but it did little to ease his discomfort. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep for a bit.

Once the suns were burning a little less fiercely, Knives began searching again. He felt a weight settle on his heart—the situation was looking very bleak. He tried to move as quickly as possible without overdoing it. He was running out of time and out of energy.

He slept in another empty bed once the suns had sunk below the horizon. He had one more day, if he was lucky. His head was beginning to pound. He closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

It was hard to rise the next morning. He could already feel the hot breeze blowing through the window. He forced himself to stand, threw on his pack and walked out into the hot sunlight. His empty stomach clenched, causing him to stumble for a moment. He leaned against the wall of clay house and took a deep breath, trying to relax. His limbs were cramping as well, from lack of water.

But he had to keep going. He couldn't let it end like this. He couldn't become like one of them—abandoned here and left to die. He pushed himself upright and began moving forward.

x.x.x.x.x

Nothing. There was nothing left. If there was any water left in his body, he might have cried. Knives collapsed in a patch of shade, his body wracked with pain. It was just too hot. Maybe, if he rested for a bit, he could go a little further. He smiled, knowing that it was a lie. That this was the end.

He'd been such a fool. He had no one to blame but himself. He laid flat on the ground, staring at the sky.

He wished he could have seen Vash one more time. He would have apologized—for everything. He hoped he'd die for real this time instead of going back to that purgatory bullshit. He had a feeling he would. He sighed and closed his eyes, drifting into blackness.


	4. Chapter 4

Knives was vaguely aware of being jostled and let out a soft groan. His body ached—he just wanted to go back to sleep. He was pushed into a seated position and something pressed against his mouth. Liquid ran down his lips.

Water! His hand reached up, clutching at the source of the water and he drank deeply. His throat rebelled at the sudden intrusion and he began coughing violently. He forced his eyes open, but the world was hazy.

"Whoa. Slow down. It's okay." A soothing feminine voice spoke beside his ear. A hand patted his shoulder and he realized he was leaning against someone. The woman gently pressed the waterskin back to his lips. "Drink slowly. You'll hurt yourself if you go too fast."

He obeyed, panting in between sips. After a few moments she took the waterskin away again. "More," he demanded.

"You're dehydrated. Just wait a minute, let your body absorb it, then I'll give you more."

He sat up straight, his head still reeling, and turned to face the insolent creature. He blinked several times, his mind very foggy, and tried to process what he was seeing.

She had no face. A swath of white fabric surrounded a pair of gray eyes in a protective turban. A pale blue long-sleeved tunic and pair of loose beige leggings shielded her limbs from the suns. She also sported a pair of light fabric boots with leather soles. Goggles hung at her belt and a pack was slung from her shoulder.

She passed the water back to Knives and he gratefully accepted. "Slowly," she said again.

He took a deep drink, breathed deliberately a few times and took another.

"Are you hungry?"

He nodded weakly. The woman reached into her pack and pulled out a couple strips of what looked like jerky, handing them over.

"It's toma," she explained. "I have a little bread left too." She rummaged through the pack for another moment before pulling out a half loaf of bread. She broke off a piece and handed it to Knives before ripping off a smaller piece for herself.

"Who are you?" Knives rasped, his throat still recovering.

"My name's Kira. I'm a scavenger." She pulled down the fabric from her nose and jaw to reveal a cocky grin. She was young—maybe in her mid twenties, although it was hard to tell with the rest of her still cloaked from view. "What about you? Who are you and how the hell did you manage to get yourself stranded way the fuck out here without any water? You're not suicidal are you?" She took a bite of her bread.

"No, I'm not," he muttered, irritated by her impertinence.

She stared at him curiously as she casually chewed and swallowed before inquiring further. "Do you have a name?"

Knives thought for a moment. His name had likely been released to the public after his defeat—probably his picture too. After all, he was the man responsible for decimating the human population. Whoever was in charge these days would probably want him captured and killed.

There was a good chance that every person on this damn planet knew of him, including this girl. If she didn't recognize him already, he couldn't risk jogging her memory by telling her his name. She was staring so intently. He'd have to give her something…

"You may call me Alex," he said, immediately regretting his choice. The name had simply popped into his head—Rem's lover. Now he'd be reminded of her every time this girl addressed him.

"Alex," she confirmed. "How did you get here?"

He took another bite of jerky. He definitely wouldn't be sharing _that_ information. He wasn't even sure about it himself.

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, moving on. Do you want help getting back to the waypoint? It's not an easy trek."

He narrowed his eyes. What was his plan, exactly? The only thing he wanted was to find Vash. But he hated the idea of having to travel among humans to do so. Unfortunately that seemed to be his only option. He let out a short sigh and nodded. "Yes, I would appreciate your assistance."

He also hated being at the mercy of this random bystander. He supposed he could kill her and take her supplies for himself, but he wasn't sure of the best path to travel. He'd destroyed the San Marco Bridge that spanned the chasm between Delnashville and Warrens. He could try to go around it, but the trip would take weeks. It was infeasible.

The humans had probably built an alternate way to span the divide where the bridge used to be, but if he were wrong he would waste a lot of time and resources trying to rectify his mistake. It was less of a risk to allow this girl to lead him. She seemed to be willing to do it for nothing and was even providing him with food and water. He'd be a fool to pass on the opportunity.

She had finished her bread and was glancing into the distance, a hand shielding her eyes from the suns. "Hm… I guess we'll have to head right back. I was planning on staying out here for a couple days but I don't have enough water to support two of us for that long."

She stood and held out her hand to Knives, who frowned but accepted it. She pulled him to his feet and began walking over to a two-wheeled cart. He raised a brow as he got a better look at the unusual vehicle. It had three sides, but the front was open. Two long handles extended in front of it with a crossbar connecting them. She had positioned a sort of crutch under the crossbar to hold it upright so the cart stayed level. The contents inside were hidden by a faded green tarp, but he suspected it contained her supplies.

Much like her, it seemed somehow out of place. It had probably originally been built to be pulled by a toma but there was none in sight now. There was an odd-looking pile of straps that almost resembled a harness strung between the two handles. Sure enough, she put her arms through it and tossed the crutch and pack onto the tarp, resting the cart's weight on her shoulders.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, pulling the turban back up over her nose and mouth.

Knives paused for a moment. He was still rather dizzy but he didn't want to appear weak. "I'm fine."

"Well, if you get tired, let me know. You can ride in the cart. And there's more water if you need it." She lifted the handles and began pulling the thing after her. Knives followed, not quite sure what to make of the strange girl.

They walked in silence for a while. She glanced over at him a few times, her gray eyes alert. "You can toss your stuff in with mine if you want."

"It's fine," he said, shifting the pack on his shoulders.

"I won't steal it, if that's what you're worried about." Her eyes crinkled in what he must assume was a grin.

"It's fine," he growled a little more forcefully.

"Pssh. Okay. Take it easy."

She glanced at him again but thankfully didn't speak. They continued in silence. Gradually his mind began to drift. He wondered what things were like now. How long had he been asleep? Did the angels survive? Could he ask this girl without giving anything away?

"You said you're a scavenger?" He spoke slowly.

"Yes, one of the few still raiding Delnashville," she answered stiffly. "You're lucky you were found."

"What… do you do?"

She arched an eyebrow. "I scavenge…? You've never heard of scavengers before?"

He shook his head.

She looked surprised. "Well, we collect things from the abandoned cities and bring them back to be reused repurposed or recycled. Otherwise all of the things we forced the angels to produce will crumble away. It seems like such a waste, you know? I used to make special trips for families too, to search for items that were important to them—things that were lost when the city was destroyed. It's been a while since I've gotten a request like that, though."

"I see. So no one plans to return to Delnashville?"

She gave him an unusual look. "No, there isn't a reason to. We only settled here because of the plants inside the crashed ship. They allowed the city to flourish. Now that they're gone, there's no point in trying to repair and maintain the bridge to this isolated place. Not to mention, it's too far away from the Federation's headquarters in Octovern. It's difficult transporting food and water out this far. They're doing it for us scavengers since we benefit them—a sort of symbiotic relationship, I guess—but even now they're pulling back their support. There isn't much left to scavenge here and it's not worth their resources. Soon this place will be reclaimed by the desert."

The Earth Federation. They must be running things now. He grimaced. Their presence was like salt in the wound of his failure. If only he'd wiped them out before they'd landed…

"You okay?" Her voice cut through his thoughts. "You look… pissed."

"I'm fine." He was suddenly very tired. His feet were starting to ache in his ill-fitting boots. He clenched his jaw, ignoring the pain.

She gave him a disbelieving look but said nothing.

"What…" Knives paused, worried about what his question might reveal about him… and to him. "What is the date?"

"August 18th."

"… What year?"

She raised her eyebrows. "0115."

A year. He'd been dead for a year.

x.x.x.x.x

The city fell away as the suns moved slowly toward the horizon. They continued on into the open desert as evening approached. Judging by the path they were taking Knives was sure they were heading towards the bridge, as he had suspected. Assuming they stopped at dusk and rose at dawn, they should be able to reach it by midday tomorrow.

He could manage that—one more afternoon with the strange woman.

Kira stopped at sunset, resting her cart on its crutch and stretching with a sigh before pulling off her turban to reveal a head of short brown hair. She ran her hand through it roughly so it lay in loose waves around her head. "Time for some dinner!" she called out with a grin. She fished through her pouch and pulled out more jerky and bread before grabbing a full waterskin from under the green tarp.

"Sorry, not much of a selection." She handed him his portion and sat heavily on the ground, gulping hers down quickly before following it with a mouthful of water. He sat beside her, grateful to be off his sore feet, and began eating slowly. She handed him the water and stood. "I need to take care of some business. I'll be back in a minute."

She sauntered off, leaving him alone to finish the meager dinner. Afterward he untied his boots to see the damage. As he suspected, his feet were blistered pretty badly. What an annoyance. He began rubbing the unblistered parts lightly.

"Yeesh, that looks pretty bad. What happened?" Kira inquired when she returned, sitting down ungracefully next to him and staring at his besieged feet. He shoved them back into the boots.

"Nothing. It's fine."

"Oh don't be stupid," she shot back, causing Knives to grit his teeth in an attempt to curb his displeasure. "Those boots clearly don't fit right. Give them to me. Maybe I can help."

After a moment of internal debate he handed them over. Kira dove into the pouch at her side and pulled out a shiny metal object. She unfolded a small blade and began carving roughly at one of the boots. He thought about objecting to the rash action, but held his tongue. As odd as she was, she seemed to know how to take care of herself. He doubted she'd be stupid enough to destroy his only pair of shoes.

She carved open leather covering the toes and heels of both boots so they resembled ridiculous sandals and handed them back. "There. That might help. If they're still giving you blisters I can try to take a little more off."

Knives tried them on. They were certainly the most unusual looking shoes he'd ever worn, but they did feel better. At least the soles of his feet were still protected from the scorching sand and rocks. He muttered a halfhearted 'thanks.'

She grabbed a pouch from under the tarp and pulled a bar of soap and a couple pieces of cloth out of it, handing one of the pieces to Knives. She poured some water over the cloth and rubbed it against the soap before using it to scrub herself. She handed the soap over as well and he accepted it with a grimace. He supposed he should be thankful she was at least somewhat hygienic, but she was still so unrefined.

Kira gave him an amused look. "You don't like people much, do you?"

"No. Not particularly."

"Well, we should reach the San Marco waypoint tomorrow afternoon, so you can go off on your merry way." She walked over to the cart, pulled a bedroll from beneath the tarp, laying it out on the ground. The twin suns had all but disappeared behind the horizon, painting the sky red with their last shimmering rays. "Better set up for the night. It'll be cold soon."

"Won't you light a fire?"

She snorted. "I'm sorry, did you bring some wood you forgot to mention?"

"You don't have any?"

"Of course not. The cart is heavy enough as it is. Like, maybe if I had a truck or something…" She paused for a moment. "Wait. You _do_ have bedding, right?"

Knives scowled, cursing himself for forgetting something so obvious. To be fair, it had been nearly half a century since he'd done much hiking through the desert.

"You don't? You're gonna freeze!" She gave him an exasperated glare. "Where the hell did you come from? How did you get out to Delnashville without a fucking bedroll?" She shook her head in disbelief. "Ugh. Never mind. I forgot—you don't want to answer any questions. Look, you can share with me for tonight."

"No," he answered flatly.

"No? Are you kidding me?"

"No! I'll be fine." He grabbed his pack and started sorting through the clothes he had grabbed—a handful of shirts and a couple extra pairs of pants. Not much to work with. He layered them as well as he could and curled up on his side facing away from the vexing woman. He could hear her chuckle at his efforts behind his back.

"Let me know if you change your mind," she said, her voice full of dry amusement.

He could still kill her…

x.x.x.x.x

Knives was miserable. It was only couple hours past sunset, but he couldn't stop shivering, and now, even his teeth were chattering. He pulled the useless clothes tighter against him, but they did little to ward off the cold. Kira's steady breathing wasn't helping. He could tell she was asleep and comfortable. The damn bitch.

He sat up and let out a frustrated breath. Maybe he should just walk around to get his blood moving. He was still so fucking tired though. He groaned and flopped backward, closing his eyes tightly. The sound of a zipper caught his attention. Dammit. He woke her.

He felt a warm hand grab his.

"Just come here," she mumbled, still half-asleep. She gave him a light pull before letting go and walking back to her bedroll. He paused for a moment, shivering, and then swore irritably. He took off the extra clothes quickly, tossing them in his bag, and made his way to where she lay. He climbed in, trying to brush against her as little as possible. The wave of warmth that met him felt wonderful. He zipped the bedroll and lay with his back against hers.

"Mmph. You're freezing," she grumbled.

"Need I remind you that this was your idea?"

"… And you're doing it wrong. We'll fit better if we face the same direction." She flipped over so she was curled against his back.

He tried to disconnect himself from what was happening—from being forced into such close proximity to the girl—but found it difficult. He sighed. At least he wasn't shivering anymore. And as loath as he was to admit it, the feeling of another body pressed against his was oddly… comforting. Being close like this reminded him of the angels… of the connection he'd lost. He'd been alone for so long in that purgatory. He was surprised at how grateful he felt, not to be alone now. Even if his companion was a human.


	5. Chapter 5

The feeling of movement woke Knives. He squinted blearily at the figure beside him. Kira was sitting and rubbing her eyes in the early dawn light. She wriggled out of the bedroll and ambled slowly to an outcropping of rock to relieve herself in private. He pushed himself up with a grunt and stretched widely before finding a spot to take care of his own morning requirements.

When they returned, Kira fished more jerky and bread from her pack and handed it to him before grabbing a water flask and sitting back down on the bedroll. They ate in silence, staring into the distance as the twin suns peeked over the horizon. After the meal, Kira quickly brushed her teeth while Knives did what he could with toothpaste alone and then they began their journey.

She seemed to be lost in thought today—she wasn't glancing his way as much as she had the previous afternoon. He still wanted to question her about what had happened in No Man's Land since he'd died, but at the same time he was glad not to have to socialize. Plus, it gave him a chance to try out something else he'd been wondering about. His telepathy.

He was hesitant to use it on her. He doubted she'd know what was happening or that _he_ was the cause, but he didn't want to rouse her unease. Still, he needed to know if he retained his most basic ability. She seemed preoccupied enough that she might not notice a silent observer inside her head. He reached out and her thoughts flowed across the mental link.

She was thinking of him, unsurprisingly. He was glad to confirm that the skill had been unaffected by his loss of power, and it would be helpful know her perception of him. Her mind was… cluttered. Confused. And very curious… She was going over the few fragments she'd learned about him and trying to compose them into a singular picture that would explain where he'd come from.

He nearly grinned at her zeal—she seemed to enjoy the 'mystery' of him. At least this confirmed that she didn't recognize him. And she didn't seem to think of him as a threat.

He was considering delving further into her mind when her mental attention suddenly snapped to his intrusion. Hm… she was quite perceptive. A prickle of unease flooded her thoughts and he felt her mind instinctively pushing him away. He cut the connection quickly.

Humans were always quick to disregard the touch of another mind, since it wasn't an experience they were accustomed to. But if he stayed, she would likely realize something more was going on. She might not know _what_ was going on, but it would probably put her on edge. She'd be easier to travel with if she remained calm and composed. He glanced over at her. The only hint of her discomfort was a small crease between her brows. Good.

They went on in silence as the suns crept toward their apex. They'd reach the bridge soon. As if to herald the upcoming event, her previously rare inquisitive looks became more and more frequent.

Finally, he let out an annoyed sigh. "Yes?"

"I don't mean to pry, but… do you know where you're going?"

He made a face. "What do you mean by that?"

"I just… I can't make you out. I find you stranded with no supplies, so at first I thought maybe you were sent down from the Federation's interstellar fleet and had crashed here or something. But, you don't _look_ like a soldier, and I certainly can't imagine one of them managing to get trapped out here with no food or water in a pair of ill-fitting boots..."

"Get to the point," he growled.

"Well… you seem very secretive, so I'm guessing you don't want anyone to find you. A deserter, maybe? And if that's the case, I wondered how were you planning on spanning the bridge without alerting the Federation to your presence?"

He gave her a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"They have guards posted on the far side so they can keep track of who's coming and going. Nothing crazy, but they will ask you for your name and business." She watched him carefully.

Knives thought for a moment. Even with a fake name they might recognize him. Fuck.

"… Are you 'wanted?' I mean… will they know your face?"

He looked down at her, distrust twisting his features.

She let out an aggravated breath at his lack of response. "Look, I'm not gonna turn you in, if that's what you're worried about. I just thought you'd like to know what you're getting into."

"I would prefer to stay hidden from them," he mumbled reluctantly.

She nodded. "I could try to hide you in the cart. Occasionally they'll check it, but not often."

He stared at the odd little cart, already anticipating how uncomfortable he would be and hating the idea of putting his fate into her hands more than he already had. But what else could he do. "Yes. I'd appreciate that."

"Okay. I'll let you know when we're getting close."

x.x.x.x.x

Knives was half-tempted to ask her about the angels before they reached the bridge, since they would part ways afterward, but he didn't want her to become more curious about him than she already was. He'd just have to investigate what had happened to his sisters when he reached the next settlement.

"It's time." Kira walked over and lifted the tarp.

Knives frowned, slightly ashamed of hiding in such cowardly fashion, even if it was his best option. He climbed into the cart, making himself as unobtrusive as possible and Kira tossed the tarp back over him. He felt a slight sway as they began to roll forward.

"We should be there in ten minutes or so. Then we have to ride the ferry across, so that's another ten to twenty minutes. Hopefully passing through the guard station will only take a minute or two, but we should probably get a little distance before you come out, so get comfortable."

Knives huffed in irritation. The gentle swaying was making him nauseous. "Why are you helping me?" he asked, suddenly intrigued as to why a human would go to such trouble.

Kira laughed. "Because you need it," she said cheekily. He scowled under the tarp. "I… I'm not of fan of how the Federation has taken control of our planet, and if you are avoiding them, I can sympathize. That said, I hope you didn't do anything _too_ bad to piss them off."

If only she knew. Knives almost pitied the strange, clueless thing. She was so damn interested in _his_ reasons for being here; he wondered what had brought _her_ to this desolate place. "Why do you scavenge? It seems like lonely work."

"It seems like useful work to me," she answered soberly. "And I know the area pretty well, so if anyone does want me to go in and grab something special—a photo album or family heirloom, that kind of thing—I have a better chance of finding it than some of the other random mercenaries who scavenge."

"So you lived here? In Delnashville?"

"… Yes."

"Isn't it painful? To see your home in such a state?"

"Well you're full of questions," she snapped. "What—you couldn't walk and talk at the same time? Now that you're off you're feet you suddenly have the energy?"

Knives fell silent. The gentle sway continued and after a moment her heard a soft sigh.

"Sorry," she said in a softer tone. "I don't like talking about it. Yes. It's painful."

Her answer only brought on more questions, but he bit his tongue. Again—it was easiest if she remained calm and composed.

After a bit, the swaying stopped. Knives heard a metallic grating sound that had to be some sort of pulley system. He felt the cart shift for a moment as they boarded the platform. He heard Kira grunt and swear several times before the grating sound began again. "Sorry," she muttered. "The lever on the platform always sticks." After what felt like an eternity, the grating finally ceased and he felt the cart roll forward again.

"Kira! Didn't expect you back so soon." An officious sounding voice cut through the air.

"Yeah, well, the heat wave kinda got to me. Went through my water a lot faster than I meant to."

"… Find anything good this trip."

He heard Kira snort. "That place is completely cleaned out. Got some scrap, but there's not much left. Honestly, I think it's time to find a new hunting ground… Say, you don't have any leads, do you?"

"Well, I think El Pazzo's still got some good stuff. A friend of mine works out that way."

"I'll have to check it out!"

"Yeah, we're going to be closing the bridge soon anyway. You should try to hitch a ride back while you still have the chance. Good luck."

"Yup! Thanks a bunch!"

The cart began swaying gently again for several minutes, then Knives felt a lurch and the tarp was flipped aside. They were tucked away between a pair of buildings off the main road. The town was quiet—likely abandoned as everything else in the area.

"I think we're good!" Kira said with a wide grin.

Knives climbed out and stretched. That had gone much more smoothly than he'd expected. It was uncomfortable as hell, but at least he'd made it through.

"So, what's your plan now?" she asked.

"I'll probably go to Octovern," he answered without thinking, regretting it a moment later. Oh well. So far she seemed to be interested on his behalf. It couldn't hurt to get a little insight into his plan.

"Do you know the way?"

"I was going to head to Warrens and see if I could catch a ride from there."

Kira wrinkled her nose. "Warrens is a ghost town. You're not gonna find anyone there." She stared at her feet and kicked a pebble. "Do you… want a guide?" She looked up, light pink staining her cheeks.

Knives frowned. A blushing little girl was the last thing he needed. But she did know a lot more about this new world than he did. So far, she had proven herself to be quite useful. He nodded slowly. "Yes. You may be my guide."

"I 'may?'" She raised an eyebrow before breaking into a fit of laughter. "You are a very unusual person. I'm glad you've decided to 'allow' me to accompany you, 'cause honestly, I don't think you'd last a day out there by yourself." She slapped him on the shoulder and threw the tarp back over her supplies. "C'mon. Let's get some water and head out. The inn closed down over a month ago, so there's no reason to delay."

She began pulling the cart again with Knives at her side. She eyed him skeptically. "You're broke, right?"

"Why do you ask?"

"We're gonna need to buy more food and waterskins from the Federation. We can refill the ones I have but they won't last very long with two of us. You'll have to wait on shoes and a bedroll. The store closed down a couple months ago, but there might be one at the next waypoint. We'll just need to keep your unprepared ass alive until then."

She flashed a cheeky grin and continued ahead. She _was_ useful, and fairly intelligent, it seemed, but Knives was already starting to regret his decision to travel with her.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira made Knives wait behind one of the buildings while she went to the Federation water truck to purchase supplies, fill their waterskins, and trade in the few things she'd gathered before she ran into him. From what she described, the Federation took in the materials and paid each scavenger based on what they deemed the items were worth. When the water tank was empty, it would return to Octovern with the load of scavenged items and a new truck would be sent.

Once the waterskins were filled the pair began hiking into the desert. Kira led the way. She'd pulled a compass from her pack and strung it at her waist, occasionally using it to check their course. Knives was surprised at her tireless pace, considering she was still pulling the cart holding their gear behind her. He wasn't even wearing his pack anymore.

She seemed to notice him watching her. "It's a three day trip to the next waypoint. It's located in a little town called Arrows. I passed through it around seven months ago when I first came up here. They had more of a population than the San Marco waypoint. Hopefully they'll still have a store." She adjusted her grip on one of the handles mid-stride, sweat beading at her temples.

"Would… you like me to pull the cart?" Knives offered grudgingly. It was a somewhat demeaning task, but he felt weak letting the girl do all the work.

She grinned. "If you like." She rested the crossbar on the crutch and unharnessed herself, stepping away and rubbing her arms. "Let's have a quick meal first." She pulled out the remainder of the old jerky and bread along with a flask of water. Tossing Knives his portion she leaned against the side of the cart and began eating hers.

"What…" Knives paused, unsure of whether he should ask or not. "What happened to the angels? The ones that fell from the sky…"

She raised her eyebrows but didn't comment. "They're in the dome." At Knives' confused expression she continued. "After they fell, they built a dome to house them and support them together. In return, the plants offered to continue providing us with food and water, but a lot less of the other materials we were demanding before."

Knives felt his heart twist. So they'd done it. They'd found a way to live together—the humans and the angels. A compromise… just as Vash said they would…

She shrugged. "To be honest, it's something that should have happened ages ago. I feel like we've been surviving on this planet, but we've never really learned how to live here, you know? I think they're working on some kind of solar panels too that can sync up with the matter generators so there will be less load on the plants, but I haven't exactly been keeping up with the news out here." She looked up with a smile but dropped it when she saw Knives' expression. "You okay?"

"I… I don't…" His heart was pounding in his chest creating a dull ache. How could he have known? How could he have known that the humans would be willing to help—willing to negotiate? How could he have known that this was the future the angels would choose, in the end? This peaceful coexistence…

"Alex…? Alex… Hey! Alex!" The shouted words finally broke him from his reverie. He felt a pair of hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Did… did many of them die? When they fell…"

She handed him a waterskin. "Drink."

"I'm fine… please. Tell me. Did many of them die?"

"Why do you…?" She sighed. "Yes. About half, I think."

A wave of horror and guilt washed through him. Knives took a step toward the cart, and reached out to steady himself but his knees buckled, sending him to the ground. So many! So many angels had died because of him! Far more than the humans had taken. He hadn't saved them. He hadn't saved anything! All he'd ever done was bring destruction and pain to those around him.

Tears of grief and shame streamed down his cheeks, falling uselessly into the sand as ragged, choked sobs spilled from his throat. He'd killed so many. His sisters… He curled into himself, his breathing fast and erratic. It was as if all the oxygen had been removed from the air and he was suffocating. He was going to die. He deserved to die for what he'd done…

He felt a hand on his shoulder and another rubbed his back, slowly and deliberately. "It's alright… Just breathe. It's gonna be alright." She continued whispering softly to him. He focused on the sound of her voice and the feeling of her hand on his back. He forced himself to calm down, to breathe deeply and exhale slowly. Gradually he regained control, but the pain in his chest refused to abate.

He sat up straight, pulling away from her, and wiped his eyes, humiliated that there had been a witness to his emotional display. They sat together in silence for several minutes before Kira rose.

"We should get going soon," she said slowly.

He nodded sullenly and stood, walking to the cart's crossbar.

She gave him a sympathetic look. "You don't have to do that."

"Please," he caught her eyes. "Let me." Anything to distract him.

"Alright." She offered him a light nod.

He put on the strange harness, tossed the crossbar crutch in the back and began pulling the cart forward. It was heavier than he expected—the girl made it look effortless. Soon he was sweating as she had been. After a while he noticed her inquisitive stares once again. She looked away quickly, blushing.

"So… are you… a plant worshipper?" she asked gently.

He thought for a moment. He preferred not to answer her questions rather than to lie outright, but he supposed it was fairly close to the truth. That—and he'd have to give her a few answers curtail her blazing curiosity. "Yes. Of a sort."

"I'm sorry. Their deaths must be a great loss to you."

"… They are." She couldn't possibly know how great a loss it was… or how deeply he was to blame.

"Is there… anything I can do?"

He looked over at her and was surprised by the genuine concern on her face. She barely knew him. "No… thank you."

x.x.x.x.x

As the suns set, they broke for the night. Kira passed Knives his dinner and they ate in silence again. She finished her meal and left to relieve herself. When she returned, she did her best to wash up. Knives followed suit. He didn't argue when she gestured for him to join her in the bedroll, climbing in beside her as the last of the light disappeared from the sky. He faced her back this time. She was right—they did fit better facing the same direction. Thoughts of the angels flitted through his mind as he fell into a weary sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira smiled at the soft sound of snoring behind her. She was glad he was getting some rest—he clearly needed it. He was certainly a strange guy. After growing accustomed to his terse, reserved demeanor, a tearful breakdown was the last thing she'd expected. What the hell had happened to him? Plant zealot, obviously, but she suspected there was more to it than that. And why was he in hiding?

Despite her endless questions, she couldn't help but feel responsible for him. He'd been so close to death when she found him. Ignoring everything about how and why he'd been there, she felt a strong urge to take care of him, to keep him safe, at least until they reached somewhere more hospitable. He was obviously going through something and this part of the planet had no mercy for those who were unfocused or underprepared. The environment alone would kill him in a day or two. And even when they got closer to civilization, robbers and slavers would become more of a threat. He needed protection… whoever he was.

She let more questions about him mill through her mind, before silencing her thoughts with a heavy sigh. There was still one thing that kept nagging at her—she could have sworn she'd met him before. His face was strangely familiar, but she just couldn't place it. She closed her eyes. Oh well.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives woke with a gasp, a cold sheen of sweat coating his skin. Nightmarish images still filled his head—his sisters screaming in pain, their broken bodies tangled together in a heap, baking on the sand. He let out a shuddering breath as the guilt took him, once again forming an ache in his chest.

The memory of his last moment with the angels flashed through his mind. He could see his hand reaching for them, and they to him, as they were ripped away. No… they had chosen to leave. They were simply reaching out to bring him along. But he couldn't go with them. He couldn't turn his back on his beliefs. He'd fought so long and so hard… For what?

It hurt losing that connection… that bond… but it didn't matter now. It was done. All that mattered was finding Vash. He let out another slow breath. There was no hint of light on the horizon. It was late and he needed sleep to regain his strength. It had been a long time since he'd travelled like this and he'd forgotten how taxing it could be. If only his mind would let him rest.

The girl was still asleep in front of him. Thankfully his movements hadn't roused her. The last thing he wanted was to treat her to an encore. Still… he was glad for her presence. A soothing warmth radiated from her. Heat. A living body. A companion. He wasn't trapped. He wasn't isolated. It was a small mercy.

He moved closer, careful not to wake her, and closed his eyes. He imagined he was back on the ark—safe, powerful, surrounded by the angels. A sudden image of Vash flashed through his mind. When they were children. They used to cuddle up together on Rem's bed…

And Rem. He hadn't always hated her… He hadn't _entirely_ hated her.

He could remember the feeling of her scooping him up in her arms. He could remember falling asleep, listening to the sound of her heart beating beside his ear. He'd loved her back then…

Yes. It seemed a fitting memory as he nestled against the girl. His mind drifted through those peaceful times until it finally relinquished him to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

They began at dawn after a quick breakfast. Knives seemed much more rested but Kira insisted on pulling the cart. She was still worried about him. It was impressive he'd been able to bounce back so quickly from his severe dehydration but she didn't want him to overexert himself. She made a mental note to keep their pace slow until she was sure he'd fully recovered.

As usual, they walked in silence. She tried engaging him in conversation a few times but he clearly wasn't interested. He was probably still mulling over what had happened the day before. The deaths of the angels had been a shock to him although she wasn't entirely sure why. If he knew they'd fallen from the ark, how could he not have heard the rest? Literally every paper on the planet covered the story. Just something else to add to her never-ending list of questions about him.

Maybe he'd deserted from the No Man's Land Federal Forces during the final battle. Then he'd wandered around and somehow made it up to Delnashville… But why there? Of all the cities he could go to, Delnashville was by far the most desolate, not to mention inaccessible. If he'd chosen December or Augusta even, he could have made a decent go of it. They were both in good enough shape that the Federation would probably rebuild if they hadn't already.

Delnashville had been hit first, and it had been hit hard. Her stomach clenched as she forced painful memories from her mind. No. Not now. She couldn't think about it right now or she'd be lost in depression for the rest of the day. She let out a heavy breath and glanced over at her 'charge' yet again.

He was moving with an even stride, his jaw firmly set, his attention focused on the ground. He was doing well. She could see a little sweat on his brow, but his breathing was steady. He looked determined. Strong… She couldn't stop a small smile from creeping across her lips. He certainly was gorgeous. Tall, with jet-black hair and unnaturally blue eyes—like shards of ice. He flashed his sapphire gaze at her for the briefest instant and she immediately snapped her head forward, feeling like an idiot for gawking.

They had enough to worry about. She looked down at Knives' shoes for a moment. They seemed to be holding up well enough, but she'd need to get him a decent pair as soon as possible. It still drove her crazy not knowing _why_ the man was wearing shoes that didn't fit. He must have arrived in Delnashville with a proper pair! What—had he walked holes into them? And if so, then how long had he been there? How had he survived? It just didn't make sense!

She bit back a growl of frustration and let out a calming breath instead. When he grew more comfortable, he'd tell her more about himself. She was sure of it. Until then, she'd just have to be patient. In the meantime, he really needed some fucking shoes. And a bedroll. And about a hundred other things. He'd emptied his pack that first night—some shirts and pants. That was all he had. Fucking hell.

The Arrows waypoint was two days away. She hoped it wasn't as empty as the San Marco had become or there would be little chance of acquiring new supplies for him. It was jarring how quickly the area had changed. A little over two months ago there were people milling through the streets, socializing, trading. There was a small store, a saloon and an inn. But day-by-day, person-by-person, the population had dwindled. She sighed. If Arrows was empty too, he'd just have to make-do until Caston, the waypoint that followed it. It had a very loyal community. They wouldn't leave until the last water truck pulled away. They should have some kind of marketplace…

A soft curse from Knives caught her attention. He shook one of his feet and a small rock came tumbling out of his shoe. "Sorry," she muttered, feeling slightly accountable. "I hope your feet are okay…"

He gave her a quick glance before returning his gaze to the ground. "It is still an improvement. An occasional stone is better than blisters."

"Glad to hear it… Have you done much hiking before this?" She was hoping it was a vague enough question that he'd be willing to answer it.

He pursed his lips. "Some."

"How are you feeling—I mean with the dehydration and everything? Is the pace okay?"

"I'm fine."

Yup. Definitely not in the mood to talk. "Well, let me know if you need anything," she said in as friendly a tone as she could manage. She wished he would open up, even if he didn't talk about his past. It might make him feel better to share some of whatever it was that was weighing on his mind. Concern for the angels, maybe? Or about staying hidden from the Federation…? Or…?

Of course, she held her own pain pretty close to the chest so she couldn't exactly blame him. All she could do was wait.

x.x.x.x.x

By the following afternoon Kira had settled into a resigned acceptance. Her charge was as tight-lipped as ever. She'd tried talking for the both of them that morning, telling him a little about life in San Marco before everyone left and about her fleeting friendships with other scavengers. They weren't exactly an honorable group of people, but there had been a few she trusted enough to work alongside. There was safety in numbers. One-by-one they had left in search of more lucrative destinations and she'd been surprised to find that she missed them… or at least the fellowship they provided.

He'd listened to her rambling, acknowledging it only with the occasional sidelong glance. He didn't seem particularly interested in the topic so eventually she gave up. She let her mind drift to a checklist of things they'd need once they reached Arrows when a slight haze on the horizon caught her eye. She paused, squinting. "Fuck."

"What?" Knives stopped.

"You see that?" She gestured vaguely.

Knives squinted. "… Shit. Yes."

"Dammit. I was really hoping I was wrong." The haze seemed to be growing rapidly as they watched. No doubt about it—a sandstorm. Kira cursed again internally before ripping the tarp off their supplies. "Okay, start unloading the cart—just stack everything in a pile together. We probably only have twenty minutes or so, so lets be quick."

Knives gave her a skeptical look but thankfully didn't argue. By the time the cart was empty an intimidating wall of sand speeding toward them. Kira was actually glad for its speed—at least it shouldn't delay them for too long.

"Help me flip the cart so it covers everything—we're gonna hide under it."

He nodded and within moments their shelter was complete. The wind was already whipping grains of sand in her eyes and Kira slid her goggles down over her fabric-shielded face.

Knives narrowed his eyes and put a hand over his mouth as they crawled into the small space under the cart. "Okay," Kira said, speaking over the increasingly roaring wind, "there should be a handle beside you. If the wind picks up we might need to hold this thing in place so it doesn't get blown away. Got it?"

"Yes," he grunted.

They began bearing down against the storm. The cart rattled against the wind but stayed in place. A sudden errant gust kicked a small cloud of sand into their shelter. Knives coughed and swore fiercely. Kira reached into her pouch and pulled out the small blade. She quickly cut a wide strip of fabric off the bottom of her tunic.

"Here." She handed it to him. "Cover your nose and mouth. Sorry—no extra goggles."

He accepted and tied the fabric tightly across his face. He clenched his eyes shut as the wind continued to whistle around them, kicking up more gusts of sand. Minutes ticked by slowly, and then, as suddenly as it had started, the wind died down. Kira crawled out first, making sure the storm was really past before calling to Knives.

"Well that sucked," she muttered in annoyance.

"You've done this before?" he asked, motioning to the cart.

"Oh yeah—a few times. Super handy if you're out in the middle of nowhere!" She pulled down her face wrap and grinned broadly. "Was this your first sandstorm or something?"

"No—not at all. I've just never seen anyone combat a storm quite like this. It's surprisingly clever."

"Surprisingly! Screw you!"

He gave her a vexed look.

She couldn't contain an amused snort. "Relax. I'm teasing. And thank you for the compliment, even if it was backhanded. I've been travelling by myself since the war and it really sucks trying to hold everything down when you're alone, so having a cart I can maneuver easily and take shelter under just makes sense."

"Yes, I suppose it does." He gave her a calculating look that made her unusually self-conscious.

"Um, anyway, help me put this thing back in order."

x.x.x.x.x

As they continued on, Knives couldn't help but watch the girl attentively. Once again, she had surprised him. Not that she shouldn't know how to deal with a sandstorm—everyone on this damn planet should—but her method was so perfectly attuned to her particular requirements. Beyond that, her skills were strangely adept, even if she'd been developing them for the last year. Finally, his curiosity overwhelmed his desire to avoid communicating with her.

"How do you know how to travel so well?" At her look of confusion he explained slowly, pondering the words himself as he spoke. "You seem to be at ease, despite the physical exertion that is required. You also have an effective system for dealing with the environmental hazards. It doesn't strike me as normal for someone who spent their life in a city to have learned these skills."

"Well, I _did_ spend my life in Delnashville, but I supposed the things you're talking about were passed down from my mother. She always taught my sisters and I to be aware of the world we lived in and to find ways to adjust to it rather than to fight it. She used to take us camping in the desert when we were kids, and taught us how to protect ourselves from the suns and the sand, among other things. So that's where I learned a few of my tricks… As for the physical exertion part, I've been dragging this cart around almost every day for over half a year. The body conditions itself." She shrugged.

"I see." He wondered if any of her family had survived the attack. He somehow doubted it. If they had, why would she be out here searching through the wreckage alone? "Are they gone? Your family?"

She stiffened, staring blankly at the sand in front of her. "Yeah," she finally answered.

Of course they were. Had they died when he took the angels? He felt the barest hint of culpability but buried it under a thick layer of denial. Innocent until proven guilty. Besides, why should the fate of her family weigh on him? He hadn't killed them himself—probably. Their survival wasn't his responsibility any more than it had been his sisters'. If anything, they had probably gotten what they deserved, like all the others who'd didn't have the strength to survive on their own. He scowled and tried to ignore the nagging voice arguing that he wasn't being entirely honest with himself.


	7. Chapter 7

It was nearly midday by the time they reached Arrows. Much to Kira's disappointment the town was just as empty as San Marco. No store. No inn. No people. "Well," she said, turning to her charge, "what do you think? The inn used to be over there," she pointed to an obviously empty building, "but they must have taken off. We could probably stay in one of the abandoned houses, or we can grab some supplies and keep going until sunset. Your call."

Knives grimaced. "How far is the next waypoint?"

"Caston? Another three days, I think. It should have a decent population though—with a store and stuff. It's kind of a cross-point between Delnashville, Inepril and Octovern so I think a lot of travellers still pass through it."

"I'd rather not delay."

She tipped her chin. "Wait here, I'll get the food and water."

x.x.x.x.x

Knives paced impatiently as the minutes crept by. It was taking too long. Where the hell was she? His mind began working itself into a frenzy. Maybe she _had_ recognized him. Maybe she was out there searching for a soldier to take him into custody. Why had he trusted her! He should have known better. Or maybe she'd simply decided he wasn't worth her trouble. She was gone, he was sure of it. She'd left him. He was alone… again.

Concern gripped him for a moment but he refused to let it take hold. Not now. He needed to keep his wits about him. If she was gone... what next? He needed food and water. But he didn't have any money… And he couldn't risk showing his face more than necessary… And his clothes were on her cart. Fuck. He let out a frustrated sigh. He needed to be patient. She'd come back. Surely she wouldn't just leave him like this…

The slight creaking of wheels caught his attention and a wave of relief swept through him as the girl came into view. "What took you so long?" he demanded, his tone sharp.

She gave him a surprised look. "It took a little while to fill the waterskins. Why? Did something happen?"

Shit. He felt like an idiot and turned away dismissively. "I'd like to get going."

"Okay…" She quirked an eyebrow but didn't push the matter.

x.x.x.x.x

After eating a quick lunch, Kira took a bearing from her compass and they began heading in the direction of the Caston waypoint at a steady pace. Once they were surrounded by nothing but sand and a few boulders, Knives relaxed a bit. He was glad there didn't seem to be any other travellers on their route. Apparently most people just hitched a ride on the water trucks, but since he was avoiding contact with the Federation, that wasn't an option. He was safe for now, at least.

Kira implied that things would pick up once they reached the next town, but a part of him hoped she was wrong. More humans would make life easier and harder at the same time. They'd have more amenities but he'd have to be more wary. He hadn't explicitly told her that he was a 'wanted' man, only that he didn't want the Federation to know about him. It might further arouse her suspicions if he tried to conceal himself around normal townsfolk.

Then again… maybe he _could_ trust her. With a little information at least. After all, she'd brought him this far… She reminded him of Vash—of his idealized version of humanity. She seemed to have much of the 'goodness' his brother always went on about. She was certainly kinder than the humans Knives was used to dealing with, although it wasn't surprising. The Gung-ho Guns and the Eye of Michael were about as despicable as humanity could get.

He shuddered to think of his fate if one of their kind had found him. And they weren't alone. There were swarms of hateful, greedy, cruel humans out there. They would have turned him in, or left him to die… He was lucky it had been her.

Well… somewhat lucky. The girl had been ranting nonstop about her displeasure with the rations she'd purchased in Arrows. Apparently all they had were protein bars, so that would be their meals for the next few days. He couldn't blame her for her irritation—the damn things tasted like chalk—but he was amazed at the energy she was wasting to complain about it.

"—like, _anything_ else! Like… beans! Or canned meat. Or dried fruit. Hell—I'd even prefer more toma jerky!"

"And here I thought you just had a taste for the stuff," he said with a slight smirk.

She looked over in surprise. "Jerky? Ugh, no. I mean, it's fine—better than protein bars—but I'd rather have some variety. Not that packing fresh produce would be a wise decision, but I try to keep my diet at least somewhat well rounded. Unfortunately it's been pretty slim pickings the last few weeks."

He frowned. "Why did you stay so long? You obviously knew Delnashville was ending."

She gave him a slightly embarrassed look. "I don't know. I've been avoiding thinking about it, honestly. My life was there… _was_ there. Maybe I just wasn't ready to say goodbye."

"I take it you won't return?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Where will you go?"

A wistful smile teased her lips. "I don't know… Maybe I'll take you all the way to Octovern. If you'll 'allow' me, that is," she said with a small chuckle. "It seems like a good place to make a new start." She glanced over and he could see the question in her eyes.

"Yes. That would be acceptable," he said. More than acceptable. He needed her help—it was as simple as that. His brief moment of concern in Arrows was enough to solidify that fact. He needed her supplies. He needed her money. He needed her knowledge. He didn't even mind her company… mostly. He just hoped his brother was actually _in_ Octovern since he didn't really have a backup plan. Most of his allies were dead, and he had no idea how to reach any that might remain.

And he didn't _want_ to reach them. He held no love for the humans, but his vendetta was over. He was tired. He wanted to leave those dregs of humanity in the past. He didn't want to start another war, build another militia. He didn't want to fight with Vash or try to prove some meaningless point. He just wanted to find his brother. His twin. The only person he could fully trust. The person who would never betray him, even when he should. He wanted forgiveness for the things he had done… and the thing he had _nearly_ done.

He'd almost killed him—the person who meant more to him than anyone. He'd turned against Vash—the only one who could truly understand him. He had to fix his mistake.

This girl was his best chance.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives woke first the following morning. He sat up, trying not to disturb Kira, and left to relieve himself. She was still asleep when he returned. She looked so different with her brown hair splayed haphazardly around her head. She always wore the turban when they travelled. Without it she looked so much younger. And strangely vulnerable.

As if she felt him watching her she sighed and stirred, her eyes opening slowly. She groaned and sat up, stretching. "I miss real beds," she muttered. She got up and began taking care of her morning duties as Knives got the food together. If he never ate a protein bar again, it would be too soon. He handed her a portion when she returned and she munched on it quietly while putting on her turban.

Knives pressed a shirt to his nose and sniffed before scowling. He'd run out of clean clothes a couple days ago. He did what he could with a small amount of water and the bar of soap but they needed a proper cleaning. He sort of regretted leaving Arrows so quickly. If they'd stayed they could have gotten extra water from the truck for laundry, but it would be a waste to use their drinking water for something so inconsequential.

Kira looked at him sympathetically as he shrugged his shirt off and pulled the 'new' one over his head. "We should get to Caston the day after tomorrow," she said in an obvious attempt to conciliate him. "We'll do laundry first thing."

He gave her a stiff nod and put his arms through the harness since it was his turn to pull.

x.x.x.x.x

They moved quickly. Kira had been talking more and more each day as they walked. What began as a dialogue of her hypotheses about his past had somehow turned into a full-blown tirade against the Federations' new criminal justice practices, and although he found her ire rather amusing, the faster pace she adopted in her anger was less so. He had half a mind for strap _her_ in front of the damn cart just to slow her down. It was too fucking hot for this.

"—which _apparently_ means that even something as small as looting the abandoned houses could put you behind bars. I understand that they want to create order but it's ridiculous! People are _still_ struggling to survive! They don't have any options. Not to mention this whole 'No Man's Land Reformation' thing hasn't made a damn difference in these border towns. It's as easy to get robbed or kidnapped or _killed_ as it ever was and calling minor transgressions 'criminal' isn't—"

Knives finally let out a heavy sigh, cutting her off. "Were you planning on arriving at a conclusion anytime soon," he asked, the faint curve of a mocking smile on his lips.

"Cute," she shot back sarcastically. "All I'm trying to say is that the Federation is too swift to judge, so having a bounty on your head doesn't mean much these days. And… if there's one on you, I think it'd be safer if I knew about it."

He scowled, his hackles rising. "Safer for you or for me?"

"Can't it be both," she asked with a lopsided grin.

He arched a brow.

She rolled her eyes. "If we need to keep an eye out for bounty hunters, I'd like to know. And if walking around town puts you at risk of being recognized, I can help—get you something to hide your face or whatever."

He stared at her for a moment, his eyes slightly narrowed. In a way, he was glad she'd come to the conclusion without him having to ask for it directly, but he was still hesitant to reveal so much. After a few more moments of internal deliberation he finally relented. "Although I'm not entirely certain, there may be a bounty out for me." It was the truth… to some extent. The full truth was that he'd be amazed if there _wasn't_ a bounty on his head.

To his surprise she let out a sharp, victorious laugh. "I _knew_ it! I thought you looked familiar! I must have seen your poster at some point." A self-satisfied grin spread over her lips.

His blood ran cold. He briefly scanned her mind and was relieved to see that her recognition was vague at best. She didn't know him. "I'd rather not discuss it any further, but… I would appreciate your assistance in staying out of sight," he muttered, a little surprised by the genuine gratitude he felt. Her offer alleviated the problem that had been weighing on him so heavily for the last couple of days. Now, if he could just dissuade her from investigating any further into his crimes…

She huffed a little regretfully. "Alright, you don't have to tell me about it. But thanks for letting me know. And don't worry—I'll get you safely to Octovern. I promise."

x.x.x.x.x

They made camp at dusk. After a quick dinner and their normal nightly routines, they bedded down. Knives was a little embarrassed to be sleeping next to the girl now that he'd run out of clean clothes. If his smell bothered her, Kira was too polite to say anything. She did face away from him when she climbed into the sleeping bag though.

Her slow, even breathing soon signaled that she was asleep. As he'd done nearly every night, he inched just a little closer to her. He knew it was wrong on so many levels for him to find comfort like this, but he did. It was unnatural, but… He let out a soft breath. Right now, he simply didn't care. He'd take whatever peace he could get.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives was awoken by a rough nudge to his shoulder.

"Well ain't this just adorable," called out a raspy male voice.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. A dim lantern placed on the ground nearby cast just enough light for him to see the glinting metal and a pair of legs, but the rest of the figure was hidden in shadow.

"Don't move boy."

Kira stirred, her eyes fluttering open. When she saw the gun she took a sharp breath in.

A brittle laugh cut through the air. "Morning, cutie," a second voice called.

Knives glanced around and could make out another flickering lantern near the cart. Two men… only two. Out of instinct, he tried to make a blade to cut through them, but nothing materialized. Shit. He hadn't had a chance to test his telepathic manipulation yet—the ability to control a person's body through their mind. And it was never his strongest skill. If his concentration flickered for a moment, his control would slip. He'd mostly relied on Legato and his 'threads' for that sort of thing. Besides, even if he did retain that ability, Kira would certainly notice—

He was suddenly dragged from the bedroll and pulled to his feet. He clenched his jaw, very irritated, but still unsure of whether to reveal himself or not… No. He'd be patient. Wait. And see what the two men did.

"Okay," his captor said, "here's how this is gonna work. You're gonna give us your money and anything else you think we might enjoy, and in return we'll give you your life." He shoved Knives roughly toward the cart. "So go ahead… anything nice."

"Wait!" Kira shouted. "It's my cart. He doesn't know what's there."

The second man laughed again. "Okay, little lady. Go on then. Show us what you got."

Knives felt himself being tugged backwards. The man kicked the back of his legs, knocking him to his knees and it took an enormous amount of self-control not to force the bastard to rip out his own fucking throat. It was easier to hold captive bodies still than to make them to do something against their will, but with the rising hatred Knives was feeling right now, he was sure he could manage. _This_ was the humanity he was accustomed to…

Kira was rummaging through her pack. The second man moved in beside her and ran a hand up her thigh with a chuckle. "I might have to take a little taste of this one before we go."

A surge of molten fury rose in Knives' chest burning through his previous plans and his self-control. How dare the trash lay a hand on _his_ guide! He lashed out with his mind and the man let out a surprised yelp as Knives commandeered his limbs. "Get your hands off her you filthy—" _Crack!_ The butt of the shotgun hit him in the temple, hard, knocking him to the side. A second blow to the same spot quickly followed, sending him to his stomach. Stars flashed before his eyes, and he struggled to regain enough focus to counterattack. A third blow to his back knocked the air out of him.

"Relax, boy," rasped the first man, pressing the barrel of the gun into Knives' cheek. "There ain't shit you can do so you might as well—" _Pop!_ The sound of a gunshot rang through the air along with a choked gurgle followed by a thud. Knives was vaguely aware that the pressure of the gun was gone.

"What the—" _Pop! Pop!_ Two more followed along with the sound of a second body hitting the ground.

He shook his head, trying to understand what had just happened. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been caught off-guard like that. Apparently his reflexes weren't what they'd been before his death. He was going to be sick. Kira was at his side. She set her gun down and pushed him up to his knees. "Fuck." She pressed something against his head, causing him to groan. "Fuck!" She held it firmly, trying to staunch the bleeding from the deep bruising gash he'd received.

"You killed them," he murmured.

"Yes. Now hold this here. Can you do that?"

"Yes."

She rolled their bedding up quickly, throwing it on the back of the cart along with the rasping man's shotgun. Knives felt like he was going to pass out. He lurched to the side but caught himself.

"Dammit." Kira was beside him again. "We have to go. They might have friends. I need you to stand." She pulled his arm around her shoulders and lifted with all her might. A wave of nausea hit him and he retched, thankfully missing their feet.

"It's okay," she whispered soothingly as she half-carried him to the cart. "Get in," she ordered as she went back for the lanterns and hung them over of the two handles. There wasn't much room but he was able to find a semi comfortable position leaning against the waterskins and the bundled bedding. The cart began to move in its soft rocking way. He stared dazedly at the moons before falling into unconsciousness.


	8. Chapter 8

The whole world spun when Knives woke. He was surprised to find himself loosely covered by the faded green tarp. He was still on the cart and it was still rocking gently. He pushed the tarp off and immediately threw up over the edge.

"Dammit." Kira put the crutch in place and hurried to his side, grabbing a waterskin and handing it to him. "Here. Drink this."

He took a sip and leaned back with a moan. The suns were nearly halfway across the sky. It was late morning. "You walked all night?"

"Yes. Now, a little more." She nudged the waterskin, imploring him to drink.

"Why?"

"Because we need to get you to a doctor. You probably have a concussion and we need to make sure its not worse than that. Plus I don't want to run the risk of you developing an infection too." She tapped the waterkin. "Keep working on this. If you need shade use the tarp."

She walked to the front and began trudging forward again. Knives' head was throbbing and the blow to his back had left a persistent ache along his left shoulder blade. The fucking bastard. He missed the days when he could simply repair any minor damage to himself in seconds. His body _should_ still heal faster than a human's, even without the gate's energy. At least he hoped it did…

After his pathetic display the previous night, he wasn't entirely sure what to expect of himself. He should have been able to block the attack. If not the first, then definitely the second. Hell—he should have taken control of the bastard along with that other disgusting piece of trash. He had been… distracted.

Luckily, Kira didn't seem to have noticed anything unusual. It had all happened so quickly, he wasn't surprised. The man hadn't been under his control for more than a second or two… only long enough for Knives to force him to remove his hands and take a step back. He wished he'd had another second. He would have enjoyed forcing the vermin to claw out his own eyes…

Though Kira probably would have noticed _that_.

A sudden throbbing at his temple forced him to set his thoughts aside. Agonizing over 'should haves' wouldn't do him any good. All he could do was deal with the situation at hand—and right now he needed more rest. He got as comfortable as he could and covered himself with the tarp before closing his eyes and trying to return to the merciful oblivion. Thankfully, it didn't take long.

x.x.x.x.x

They were still moving when he woke again. The suns were low. Had he slept all day? Had she been going all day? He pushed the tarp back off and took a drink of water. The sound of his movement caused her to cast a glance over her shoulder. She looked exhausted. Her brown hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. She hadn't even bothered to put on her turban. "How are you feeling?" she called out as she continued walking.

He felt like shit but he was more concerned for her at the moment. She was pushing herself too hard and it wouldn't do either of them any good if she drove herself into the ground. "Better. You should rest for a bit."

"Don't worry about me. You need to eat something."

The thought of eating anything made his stomach queasy. She looked back and frowned when he didn't move to the rations.

"Come on—just a little. Please."

Knives pursed his lips but fished one of the protein bars out of the pack, nibbling at it lightly. For once he was grateful for the lack of flavor.

They continued on. He thought about offering to walk but the waves of nausea that rolled through him every time he moved convinced him otherwise. He put a hand to his head and was surprised to find a bandage there. When the suns reached the horizon he forced himself to sit, albeit groggily.

"Aren't we going to stop for the night?"

"Nope. We're almost there. Just try to rest."

"What about you?"

"I'll sleep later," she answered dismissively.

The little fool was going to hurt herself. "Wait," he growled. "Let me walk. I need to stretch my legs." It wasn't entirely false—he did want to stretch. He just hoped he wouldn't be sick because of it. Another bout of nausea hit him when he stood, but he was able to breathe through it and began walking slowly beside Kira. She did seem to have a little more energy without his extra weight in the cart.

The light was fading quickly. "How long before we arrive?" he asked.

"Not long… You want to rest again?"

"No. But it'll be dark soon."

"Well, we have lanterns now," she said with a humorless laugh. "There's still a little kerosene left in them. At least some good came out of last night." For a brief moment her face crumpled and she looked as though she might cry, but she quickly shook it off and let out a slow breath.

So… the experience _had_ affected her. He'd wondered…

"We'll take you to the doctor first," she said evenly, "then I'll go to the sheriff or whoever and let them know where those to look for those men."

He stared at her in utter disbelief. "You cannot be serious," he finally said, trying to keep the bite from his tone.

"We need to tell someone. Maybe they came from Caston and—"

"Kira." Knives gave her a demanding look. "You _will not_ speak to anyone about this, do you understand me?"

A spark of anger flickered in her eyes—she clearly didn't like being ordered around. It quickly subsided into exhausted uncertainty. "But… we can't just leave their bodies there…"

"Yes! We can!" he snapped. "Listen to me…" He let out a heavy sigh. Calm and composed. He needed to steer her back towards that mental state. "I am asking you to do this—for my sake." He hoped playing on her sense of duty would work. If she was softhearted like his brother, this was the best strategy to get what he wanted. "If you speak to the authorities, they will detain you and question you, and will probably want to question me as well. You'd put us both at risk. There is a chance you'd be imprisoned and that my identity would be revealed. I cannot remain with you if you choose this path, and I… I need your help," he growled, frustrated at having to admit it openly. "You would put me into a very difficult situation, so… please. Do not do it. Those men deserved what they got. Just leave it at that."

She stared at him in contemplative silence before offering a defeated nod. Her face twisted again for a moment but she let out another slow breath and continued forward, her eyes fixed on the horizon.

x.x.x.x.x

Dusk gave way to night, covering the land in deep blues and purples and forcing Kira to light the lanterns. Soon, distant lights began twinkling on the horizon. "That's it," Kira said in a light, almost cheerful tone, although Knives was sure it was simply a defensive façade. "There was a doctor in town last time I was here. Hopefully they haven't left."

He could care less about the damn doctor. He was just ready to be off his feet. He refused to sit in the cart again but his head and body were making him pay for it.

They trudged onward and gradually the lights grew into buildings. The town was bigger than Knives had expected, and there were enough lights in various windows to confirm that a decent number of people still remained. The doctor's office was easy to find, centrally located in the town square, but it was dark. Luckily, a soft glow from the living quarters above signaled that someone was probably still awake. Kira pounded loudly on the door and a porch light switched on. A disagreeable looking old man in his pajamas answered the door.

"I'm sorry—my office is closed until morning."

"Please, sir. My friend and I were attacked yesterday on our way into town. They hit him in the head pretty hard. He may need stitches and I'm worried that his skull might have been fractured or something. Please. Can you help us?"

The man eyed Knives and grumbled something unintelligible but gestured them inside. He led them through a small waiting room to a larger examination room filled with cabinets, cupboards and various medical instruments. He sat Knives down on a chair and began unwrapping the bandage. He grunted when he saw the gash. "They got you pretty good, huh? Looks like you tried to clean it?" He cast his gaze to Kira.

"As much as I could. I don't really have the right supplies," she answered tiredly.

"Well, you'll definitely need a few stitches. It doesn't look like an infection has set in. I'll need to do an x-ray to look for further damage. Assuming it's nothing too bad, I can clean it and stitch it up tonight. How long will you be in town?"

"Uh, I hadn't really thought about it."

"Well, I wouldn't recommend travelling with a wound like this, but you nomads rarely listen to a damn thing I say. I can sell you some antibiotic salve that should keep the infection away… You _can_ pay for all of this, right?"

"Uh, yeah. I can."

"Hm…" The man looked suspiciously at them but began working on Knives. "You're awfully quiet, boy."

Knives tried to contain his irritation. He did _not_ like this human. "Would my speech somehow assist you in performing your task more proficiently? OUCH!" He scowled as the doctor roughly wiped a swab across the gash.

The man grinned maliciously. "Didn't realize you were such a delicate fellow…"

Knives clenched his jaw. Hard.

"Will this take long?" Kira asked. "I need to see if we can get a room at the inn."

"You'll have time. Just don't spend too much money over there—you need to pay me first."

She walked out the door leaving Knives alone with the cantankerous bastard.

"She seems like a nice girl."

"She is."

"Which way are you two headed?"

Knives paused, suspicious of the old codger. Still, there was only one fully operating city left—the man had probably already guessed their destination. "Octovern."

"Ah, my son lives there now. He wasn't up to returning after the war. But I couldn't leave my house abandoned. Too many memories." He stood, gesturing to Knives. "Come with me."

He led Knives into an adjacent room containing an ancient-looking machine hooked up to a similarly ancient-looking computer and forced the plant to kneel while he captured the necessary x-rays. Knives was actually surprised—computers were a rarity outside of the cities. The doctor proceeded to analyze the images on the screen, his mouth pushed into a sour glower. He finally seemed satisfied and let out a huff, as he led Knives back his seat in the first room.

The doctor meandered through the space, fishing through drawers and cupboards and assembling an arsenal of supplies on a small metal cart before pulling up a chair in front of Knives and sitting stiffly. "You have a small fracture, but it should heal itself. Now brace yourself, this is gonna sting." He pierced Knives' skin with needle, causing the plant to grit his teeth, and injected an anesthetic before threading a curved needle nimbly. Knives felt an odd tugging a moment later as the old man began sewing the skin closed. He finished up in silence before clipping the thread and wrapping a layer of bandaging over the wound with a thin smile.

"All done." He glanced at the door. "I imagine your friend will be back soon."

As if she'd been called, Kira walked in breathlessly. "Sorry! That took longer than I thought it would. Are you finished?"

"Yup. He's patched up and good to go. Also, here's that salve for you, and some bandages," he said, handing her the items. After listening to limited instructions on how to take care of the wound and what to watch out for, Kira paid the man, who mumbled a gruff 'thanks,' and pulled Knives out the door.

"Come on. We have a room over here." She walked quickly down the street into the warmly lit inn. A woman at the counter inside ignored them as they passed and Kira led Knives up a flight of stairs and into one of the doors. "Tada!" She ran over and flung herself backward on one of the two beds in the room. "Ah… mattresses."

Knives couldn't help but raise a brow at her obvious glee. He was glad her mood seemed to have brightened, at least for the moment.

"We also have a bathroom with a shower." She sat up. "Actually, I could really use one of those. Unless you wanna go first?"

"No. Go ahead."

With that, she disappeared through a door and he could hear the sound of running water. She had set his pack on his bed. He pushed it out of the way and lay down. She was right—it felt amazing. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he heard the water turn off and Kira walked out wrapped in a towel.

"I… forgot my bag," she mumbled awkwardly. "Shower's yours, if you want it. They have a laundry room downstairs so if you wanna leave your clothes in a pile, I can take care of that. You don't have anything else to wear, right?"

"Not really."

"Uh… I guess you can hide under the covers. Just let me know when you're about to come back out and I'll close my eyes or something." She turned away and put a hand over her eyes.

Knives stripped down quickly and piled all of his clothes beside the bathroom door, then went inside and turned the shower on. He glanced at himself in the mirror and was shocked by how horrible he looked. The gash must have bled more than he realized—a dark reddish smudge ran down the side of his face. Kira must have cleaned him a little when she bandaged him up. The skin along his shoulder blade was also more deeply bruised than he expected, but it would heal.

He removed the bandaging around his head and stepped into the shower. The blast of hot water was invigorating, rinsing a thick layer of grit and grime from his skin. Kira had left the soap on the edge of the bathtub for him and he began lathering enthusiastically. He was eager to finally be clean again. It was strange to think that this was the first time he'd really bathed since he'd come back to life. After scrubbing the soap into his hair, he rinsed and took a moment to luxuriate under the streaming water before wrapping it up and exiting the shower. He dried off with one of the towels, careful not to brush his stitches, replaced the bandage and knocked on the door. "I'm coming out."

"Okay," called a muffled voice.

Kira was sitting on her bed, her hand over her eyes again. She must've begun the laundry because his clothes were missing. He quickly walked past her and ducked under the blankets.

"You covered?" she asked.

"Yes."

She lowered her hands and turned to him, instantly breaking into an amused smile and shaking her head. "We need to get you some clothes. You don't even have a pair of pajamas, do you? Or underwear."

"I didn't think to grab any," he muttered.

She let out and aggravated sigh, her expression somewhere between confused and annoyed, and flopped backwards on her bed. "I really hate knowing so little about you."

He stared at her thoughtfully. They still had a long way to go before they reached Octovern and he needed to be able to control her effectively without her _knowing_ he was controlling her. Encouraging her to feel a personal connection to him was clearly in his best interest. Giving her a carefully edited version of his motivation couldn't hurt. "… I'm trying to find my brother. That's why I'm going to Octovern. It seems like a good place to start looking."

She lifted her head, staring for a moment, then sat up. "You lost him in the war?"

"Something like that… I left him." Knives felt his heart clench as the full magnitude of what he'd done hit him. He'd been so selfish. "He was injured, but he was being cared for by a doctor and his son. We weren't on the best of terms and I thought he'd be better off without me… I never even said goodbye."

Kira chewed on her lip. "Is he older or younger?"

"Twin, actually," he said with a faint smile. "Although technically I'm older."

"… Why are you returning now?"

"It was a mistake. I shouldn't have done that to him." Among other things…

"Do you think he'll be angry? That you left?"

"I have no idea. If he'd left me like that, I'd be furious. But… he's much more forgiving than I am."

"I hope you find him," she said earnestly. "And I hope he understands."

A heavy silence filled the air. There wasn't much else she could say and he didn't feel like revealing any more than he had. At least she wasn't peppering him with questions. He wasn't sure why he'd told her even that much, but thinking of Vash did remind him of something that he'd been wondering about. "Last night… with those men…"

She stared down at her hands; the brightness she'd regained was gone. "Yeah?"

He frowned, unsure of precisely what he wanted to ask her. He'd assumed she was like his brother—the pacifistic type who would never take a life—but it had taken very little to drive her to it. She certainly wasn't a killer, like the Gung-Ho-Guns, so what was she? "Why did you do it?"

"I… didn't know what to do… I thought he was going to kill you."

"Have you done that before?"

"… Yes. Once. During the war."

"What happened?"

She looked up; her eyes dull. Her gray gaze soon fell to the floor and for a moment he thought she wouldn't answer. "… When the rioting started we stored as much food and water as we could and hid in the cellar. A man broke in and when my mom asked him to leave and he shot her." She took a shaky breath. "My dad tackled him and the guy dropped his gun, so I grabbed it… They were fighting… I thought he was going to kill dad too…"

Of course. She'd already been pushed to the edge. It was easier after the first time. She was staring blankly and he suddenly realized just how tired she looked. And now she was staying awake to finish their clothes while he interrogated her about the people she'd murdered. He frowned.

"You need to sleep," he commanded.

She looked up, startled. "… After I'm done—"

"No—now! You look exhausted. I'll finish the laundry."

"But… you're hurt. And you don't have any…" She blushed at his implied nudity.

"I'll manage. Now sleep!"

She opened her mouth, as if to argue, but closed a moment later it in acceptance. She climbed under the covers and pulled them up to her chin with a sigh, closing her eyes. Gradually her breathing became slow and even. He let his eyes linger on her still form.

The little fool… She'd been useful far beyond his expectations, and he was surprised to find that he was actually beginning to enjoy her company. It had been somewhat cathartic, telling her about Vash. A part of him wished he could reveal more to her, but it wasn't worth the risk. If she discovered who he was, it would surely be the end of her assistance. He needed to tread very carefully.

He finished up their laundry with a towel wrapped around his waist. Thankfully the inn was quiet and the woman at the front seemed oblivious to anything but the book she was reading. Once the clothes were dry, he put some pants on and carried the rest of them up to the room. Kira didn't even budge when he entered. He folded them and made a pile for himself and a pile for her, then sat on his bed watching her again. He shook his head and lay down, turning off the small lamp on the nightstand. He felt strangely cold, lying alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Bright sunlight filled the room when Kira woke the next morning. The warmth and softness of the bed did little to make up for the plague of nightmares she'd endured. Images of blood spattered, cackling men tore at her mind, allowing her little rest. She let out a slow breath and tried to push the memories away—the feel of the gun kicking in her hand; the choked sound of surprise from the man who'd grabbed her leg; the sight of blood pooling into the sand as she retrieved the dropped lanterns.

She had made peace with her choice to shoot the man who attacked Knives, but the other one… He was unarmed. She could have tried to scare him off. But everything had escalated so quickly—and then it was done. Her body had reacted before she had a chance to think.

She let out another slow breath, and once again pushed the memories away. It was over. She'd told Knives she wouldn't go to the authorities, and she was going to keep her word. She understood his concern. He needed her. She couldn't let herself wallow in guilt. She had to take care of him. And that meant getting out of bed, finding him, and finally tracking down the supplies he lacked.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. To her surprise, Knives was standing at the window staring out at the town. He'd been so quiet that she thought she was alone.

"Morning," she called out lightly.

"Good morning," he said softly, his eyes focusing on hers.

She looked away, her gaze meandering over the comforter—an overwrought design of flowers and ribbons. "Have you eaten?"

"No… I don't know where you stowed the cart. And I didn't want to risk going in search of it."

"Oh shit!" She jumped out of bed in search of some clothes. "I didn't even think… What time is it?" she said, glancing at a clock on the wall across the room. Almost noon. He must be starving. Why didn't he wake her? "The cart's locked up in the stable out back, but I'm not sure if the innkeeper would let you have the key without me there. Regardless, I'm sure you're as sick of protein bars as I am. I'll get you a disguise really quick, then we can find some food."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira trotted through the streets and soon located the general store. So now all she had to do was grab a few things that would hide a tall, ridiculously good-looking man with a noticeably aloof personality in plain sight… Great. She wished she could see his poster to know what the hell she was working with. A trio of cowboy hats behind the counter caught her eye and she directed the clerk to a generic looking beige one. A pair of black sunglasses completed the 'disguise' and she raced back to the hotel to show her criminal.

Knives looked at her purchase disgustedly. "I hate hats."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." She shoved it into his hands.

He gave her a hard look but affixed it to his head and donned the glasses as well.

She smiled approvingly. "Now let's find some _real_ food."

x.x.x.x.x

After gorging on a meal of fresh fruits, vegetables and deliciously cooked sausages and eggs with toast at a nearby café, they sought out the first item on Kira's list: a new pair of boots for Knives. She had to ask for directions before they found the cobbler, but luckily he was unoccupied. He quickly took Knives' measurements and assured them that the boots would be ready in four days. Kira thanked the man and pulled Knives back out into the street.

"Guess we're stuck here for a while," she said, hoping that her relief wasn't too apparent. She knew Knives was in a hurry, but she wanted to give his wound a few days to heal before they headed out anyway.

"Guess so," he muttered.

"Well, since we're stuck here anyway, we might as well try to enjoy it."

He shrugged and followed her wordlessly.

x.x.x.x.x

They spent the next several hours exploring the various shops Caston had to offer. Kira decided to sell the shotgun and lanterns, despite copious protests from Knives—she just couldn't stand having them around as a reminder of what had happened. She put the money towards all the basic necessities Knives required, including a decent wardrobe and a toothbrush. She had even splurged on shampoo, since they'd have access to running water for a few days at least. The only thing she couldn't find was the damn bedroll. Kira was in the middle of haggling with a merchant who assured her that the blanket he was trying to sell her was just as good, even though the thing was barely large enough to cover _her_, let alone Knives. She finally talked the man down to half the price and tucked her new blanket under her arm with a smug grin.

Now, where had Knives gone…? He couldn't have gotten far.

Sure enough, she found him half a block down the street staring at a sort of bulletin board where people occasionally posted jobs or advertisements. He reached up and ripped off a couple pieces of paper, folding them up and shoving them in his pocket.

"Alex." He jumped at her sudden intrusion, causing her to chuckle. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Did you find something?"

"No… It's nothing." He took a step back, his sapphire eyes glittering fiercely.

Realization dawned on her. Kira lowered her voice to a whisper, "Is it your poster…? Can I see it?"

"No."

"Aw, come on," she whined, nudging him lightly in the ribs.

"No!" he barked, startling her with his ferocity and drawing attention from a few nearby villagers. "Just drop it," he growled. "Please," he said, his tone easing.

"Okay…" she said, trying to quell her frustration.

x.x.x.x.x

They carried the small bundle of items up to the room. Kira tossed the useless blanket on top of her bag and Knives began shoving the clothes into his. She ran a hand through her hair, feeling uncomfortable and the tiniest bit pissed. "Look, I'm sorry that I pried. It's just… it's hard not to be curious. I want to help you—I really do—but I know there's a lot I'm missing."

Knives sighed and rubbed the back of his neck absently. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. You have every right to be curious. You'd be an idiot if you weren't, but… there are things I'm not ready to explain to you. Can you accept that?" Although it was technically a question, his stony gaze made it clear that there was only one correct answer.

He was starting to open up on his own. Demanding more information would most likely damage what little trust he had developed. "I can't promise I won't ask you any more questions, but I'll try not to push it. Okay?"

"Yes." He looked down, his lips curving slightly. "Thank you."

She walked over and tugged his shirt. "Come," she said lightly. "I should change your bandages." She sat him down on the bed and began removing the old gauze. Her eyes widened when it was off. "This is looking really good! It's already starting to close up," she said wonderingly. She could have sworn the doctor said it would take a week and a half.

"I've always healed quickly," he said, an especially pleased smile on his face.

"I can see that." She put a hand on his chin to hold his face steady and began gently dabbing more salve on the stitches. "Almost done," she murmured softly. She rewrapped the wound quickly but adeptly.

When she was finished she sat heavily on her bed. "I think I need a nap. I want to enjoy these mattresses as much as possible. You okay on your own?" He nodded and she curled up under her blankets with a sigh, her mind much more at peace than the previous night. Sleep soon found her.

x.x.x.x.x

When he was sure she was asleep, Knives reached into his pocket and pulled out the two wanted posters he taken from the board—one of Vash and one of himself. So his name and face were definitely out there. It was a decent likeness too. He crumpled the pages in his fist and swore. His only solace was that the posters were old and had been half-hidden under the various other flyers on the board. They must have been released right after he and Vash escaped.

He walked down to the lobby and threw the ball of paper in a trash bin where Kira wouldn't find it. He returned to the room and tried to rest, but his mind wouldn't remain still. Images of himself being captured by bounty hunters or the Earth Federation filled his head. At his best, he could control maybe five or six people at a time with his telepathy, but even that was a stretch. He wondered how Vash was handling all of this. It was unlikely that he'd hang out in the most populated city on the planet now that he was a wanted man again.

And _why_ was he wanted? Surely the humans should be celebrating him as a hero after everything he'd done! He was their fucking savior! It didn't make sense. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stop thinking about it. As much as he was warming up to Kira, he couldn't stand the hypocrisy of her race.

Then again… he was a hypocrite as well. He hated humans for the suffering they inflicted on the species around them. They were a plague, cruel and vicious. He'd always considered their deaths justified. He was protecting his sisters and brother. He was getting revenge for Tessla. He was preventing their spread across the universe. But these justifications didn't carry the strength they once had…

And in the end, he'd become every bit as cruel and vicious as the species he was trying to destroy. It was one thing to kill with a blade—quickly, almost painlessly—it was another to leave entire cities to waste away without food and water. Memories of Delnashville and the corpses strewn about the streets flashed through his mind. Kira had been there. She was one of those he'd left… to waste away…

He heard her soft breathing from across the room. She was sleeping deeply now.

She didn't deserve to suffer.

x.x.x.x.x

They spent the next few days relaxing to a ridiculous degree. Knives hadn't realized how much he needed it. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so at ease. Certainly not since he'd come back… It must have been sometime before July.

After her nap, Kira had forced him to buy groceries with her since they would be staying for a few days and the inn had a small kitchen. She did all the cooking, and even though she wasn't particularly skilled, having anything fresh felt like a luxury. She'd also snuck a deck of cards in with the armful of food, and had an almost encyclopedic knowledge of various games they could play, so now that was how they spent most of their time.

When they grew tired of sitting, they took walks around the town. The irony that they were walking to relax from walking was not lost on him, but it was surprisingly enjoyable, except for the occasional Federation soldier who'd walk by. Kira was always quick to alert him if one was approaching.

As usual, she chatted while they walked and he gradually began taking a more active role in their conversations. She told him about her family and growing up in Delnashville. Her parents had both been doctors, but she had never wanted to be one. She had been studying to be a plant engineer, of all things, when the city had been attacked. Once the war was over, she didn't have the energy to continue her education. She told him a little about her two sisters, one older, one younger and about some of her memories from childhood and the trips the family had gone on. In exchange he told her a few slightly altered stories from when he and Vash were children.

She continued looking after his stitches. He probably could have done it himself, but he was entertained by her continued astonishment at how fast the wound was healing. On the fourth day, she took the bandage off and shook her head. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I don't think you need these stitches anymore. This thing is completely healed. We should have the doc take them out."

Knives pursed his lips—he didn't want to draw more attention. "Can't you do it?"

She frowned. "I guess… if you don't mind." She rummaged through her pack and pulled out the knife and cleaned it with some soap and water. "Hold still." She began cutting the thread and gently removed it. Within a few minutes she'd completed the task. She finished up, applying some salve to the thin pink line and took a step back to survey her handiwork. "I still can't believe how fast that healed. I don't think it's even going to leave a scar. I suppose we can head out tomorrow if you're feeling well enough?"

Knives perked up. As much as he appreciated the respite, he was ready to continue their journey. "I feel fine."

"Alright, lets make sure we're stocked up on supplies."

x.x.x.x.x

They'd already retrieved Knives' new boots that morning and were still unsuccessful in tracking down a bedroll, so after picking up the necessary food, water and a couple other goods, they returned to the inn.

If he was being honest, Knives didn't really mind that they hadn't managed to acquire a bedroll. He had rather enjoyed their cozy sleeping arrangement, and since it was his only option, he didn't have to analyze _why_ he enjoyed it. Kira used up the last of their groceries for dinner and they afterward played a few rounds of cards before turning in.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives couldn't sleep. Memories of the two men who'd jumped them circled through his mind. They'd be at risk again out in the desert… not to mention the future danger of bounty hunters and soldiers. His telepathic manipulation obviously worked, but how well…

He needed to practice… to test it.

He listened to Kira's slow breathing in the next bed, ensuring she was asleep. He rose, careful not to wake her, and slipped out of the room. He'd need a subject. He peered down the stairwell at the woman reading behind the counter. She was a possibility, but… the experience would probably terrify her and he didn't want to risk her inadvertently waking Kira or possibly telling the girl about the experience.

He walked past her and out into the town. It was late and the streets were empty. Despite having a decent population, Caston was a quiet town. Once the suns set, the inhabitants mostly kept to themselves. Knives began a silent hunt, searching for anyone who wouldn't be noticed. He was slinking through an alley between two buildings when he spotted her—a young woman, maybe a few years older than Kira, doing dishes in her kitchen. He could see her clearly through the open window.

Yes. She'd do. He reached into her mind, forcing her to drop the plate she was holding back into the sink, where it fell with a splash. She gave a startled shriek and turned her head back and forth as if searching for the source of the sudden spasm. He grinned and stepped back into the shadows, making sure he was just out of view. He entered her again, forcing her to raise an arm, then the second one. Whimpering cries filled the air and he released her, hoping she'd quiet down. She dropped to her knees, cowering. That hadn't been too difficult, but trivial things were always easier to control than significant actions… and that's really what he needed this skill for.

He forced her to stand and took control of her mouth as well so her cries wouldn't rouse anyone. Now… what to do…? He glanced around the kitchen until his eyes landed on a door. That would work. He made her walk over, open it, and put her hand across the edge of the doorframe. Now, he'd just make her her slam it. That would be a good test.

She was pleading and praying inside her mind as he held her in position, one hand on the doorknob, the other splayed across the doorframe. His skin prickled as her fear flowed through him—it was separate from his own emotions, but still potent. That raw terror used to be one of his favorite parts of manipulating people, but tonight it made his stomach clench.

Still… He had to know whether or not he could accomplish this level of coercion. If he and Kira were attacked again, this was his only weapon. He had killed with this skill before, but that was a long time ago. He wasn't sure if his telepathy was as strong as it used to be. If the other mind fought back and his control slipped at the wrong moment… It could mean death for him. Or for Kira. He _had_ to know what his limits were. He _had_ to practice.

He closed his eyes, exhaling deeply. It would be quick—just a broken hand. She'd recover.

_Please, god. Please! Let me go. Please! Someone help me!_

It would be quick.

He opened his eyes and stared at the woman, frozen and trembling. Trapped… She was no one. She may deserve this, for all he knew… Of course she did. She was vermin. She was trash. Her pain meant less than nothing!

He took a deep breath, tensing, his lips curled back in a snarl…

And released her. He exhaled and fell back against the wall, a sickness gnawing at him. He couldn't do it. She didn't deserve it. None of them had deserved it. The woman fell in a sobbing heap to the floor, crying out her thanks.

x.x.x.x.x

He crept slowly through the moonlit streets, lost in the churning tempest of his mind. Without his notice, his feet had carried him back to the inn. He walked past the oblivious woman at the front desk and slipped into the room where Kira was sleeping. Once safely inside, he sank to the floor, his back against the door, and buried his head in his arms. The things he'd done… all the things he'd done. He'd always thought he was right—that he had a good reason—but now he wasn't sure. He felt doubt grip him but he pushed it away with a shuddering growl.

A sleepy voice touched his ears. "What's going on?" Kira sat up, rubbing her eyes. When she saw him on the ground, she jumped out of bed and ran over, kneeling beside him. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," he hissed, pushing her away. He stood and went to his bed, sitting with his back to her.

"It's… it's not nothing!" A note of anger colored her voice.

He didn't respond. There was no point. She didn't know. She couldn't understand. What if he'd been wrong? He knew he'd made mistakes, but… but what if it was more than that? What if his entire way of thinking was flawed? The rest of the world seemed to think so. The angels did. Vash did.

And if it was? If all of his actions were based on a faulty logic…? And all the people he'd…

He'd been so sure that he was making the right choice—the only choice. He'd reveled in their deaths. After the fall. After each town he had slaughtered. And then, when he'd taken the angels, he rejoiced in the idea that so many horrible people would be cleansed from the planet. He had decided that sacrificing a few innocent lives in the process was worth it.

He was not a fool. He'd never tried to argue that every single human was evil—just that humanity, as an entity, was a selfish, destructive force. He knew that within that force there were some kind, altruistic, innocent beings. It was a simple matter of probability. A few of them…

How many was 'a few?' He'd always buried that question deeply in the recesses of his mind. How many was 'a few?' Tens? Hundreds? Thousands? Millions?

If he'd been wrong—if the 'few' had been the majority…

No. No… he couldn't be. He couldn't be wrong! He just… couldn't!

His breathing came hard and fast. Another fucking panic attack. He tried to force himself to relax, to take deep, slow breaths, but his body wouldn't obey. He was gasping. Choking. His eyes were wide, as he took frantic, heaving, useless breaths. His world was crashing down around him, swallowing him up.

A pair of arms wrapped around him, pulling him back against a warm body. Back into reality. "It's okay… It's okay. Breathe with me. In…" He felt Kira's chest rise behind him. "Out…" Her chest fell slowly. "In…" He tried to match her breathing. "Out…" He continued on with her, feeling her breaths and trying to keep her pace. He closed his eyes and let himself relax into her. She continued to whisper softly and soothingly, her lips close to his ear, her breath tickling his neck. After a few minutes she moved away, releasing him, but continued to stroke his back gently.

He felt better—calmer—but very unsatisfied at the same time. He wanted to feel her holding him again, to feel the heat that she provided. Her hand on his back only served to fuel the need inside of him. He hadn't experienced that kind of tenderness since he was a child with Rem and Vash. Even when he'd been connected with the angels, he'd kept himself at a distance lest he lose himself in their shared consciousness.

Could he allow himself to find comfort like this? Granted, he'd been doing it since the day he met her, but this was different—more overt. This wasn't just seeking solace in a nameless, faceless presence. This time, he was finding comfort in _her_. In Kira. His hatred for the humans had died a great deal, but he wasn't sure he was ready to accept one like this. There was a big difference between enjoying Kira as a travelling companion and thinking of her as… well, _more_ than a travelling companion.

She stopped stroking his back and stood. "We should get to sleep…"

"Yes," he murmured.

She returned to her bed as he climbed into his, pulling the blankets tightly around himself in a weak effort to replicate the feeling of her arms. At least now his mind was distracted.


	10. Chapter 10

They headed out after a final 'normal' breakfast at the café. Knives had been withdrawn all morning. He hadn't said more than a few words to Kira since the panic attack. Maybe walking would help him sort out some of the things on his mind. Life would seem simpler when the only task to accomplish was putting one foot in front of the other. At least that's what she hoped…

He seemed eager to be travelling again. For the first time, she was having trouble matching his stride. It was almost as if he wanted her to fall behind. The Barstow waypoint was a long seven-day journey away, so the cart was heavy with extra food and water. After trotting to keep alongside him, panting, she finally gave up and slowed down to a speed she could manage. He continued on ahead, but slowed to her pace once he was a short distance from her.

So he _did_ want to leave her behind. She felt a twinge of hurt and wondered if she had overstepped her bounds the night before. He'd been so distraught—she was just trying to calm him down. But maybe it had been too much. It wasn't like they were precisely friends. She wasn't entirely sure what they were. He'd opened up a lot during their stay in Caston, but now it seemed like he wanted nothing to do with her.

After she'd saved him, she felt an obligation to keep him safe until he could take care of himself, but it was more than that now. She'd grown to like him over their short time together. He was… odd, to be sure, but in an endearing way. He seemed to take life very seriously, but she'd caught glimmers of a dry humor underneath his solemn façade. He was reserved, keeping himself carefully protected behind his defensive reticence, but she'd seen the emotion he was masking—in his devastation about the angels and in the warmth and regret in his voice when he spoke of his brother. He felt deeply, but he tried not to telegraph it. He was clearly burdened by the pain from his past, but who wasn't these days? And he was trying to deal with it on his own.

She empathized. How could she not?

Maybe her desire to help him was a little selfish. Maybe it was just a way for her to deal with her own pain. It gave her life direction and purpose. It made her feel like she had a place again, even if it was only temporary. And, as fucked up as it was, she felt that by saving him and protecting him, she could somehow make up for her inability to save her family.

Whatever the reason, she felt a connection to him. And she had thought he was starting to feel that way about her too.

A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily. What the hell did she have to cry about? She barely knew the man. She'd clearly been misjudging the situation and that was all there was to it. She took a deep breath and pushed the entire topic from her mind. Let him walk wherever he wanted to walk—it was his choice.

x.x.x.x.x

After several hours Kira stopped for a lunch break. Knives had been casting furtive glances at her for the past hour, so she didn't bother calling to him—he'd figure it out. He came trudging back and sat down, silently accepting the food she handed him. She stared off across the desert, munching thoughtfully on the last bite of her meal. After she'd finished, she found a hidden spot to relieve herself, stretched for a moment, and then climbed back into the harness and started walking with the cart, giving Knives his privacy.

"Wait—where are you going?" he called out in surprise.

She stopped and calmly set the crutch in place. "What do you mean? We're heading to Barstow."

He glared. "I'm not done eating."

"But I am. I've been moving slower than you all day. This way we gain a little time."

"But…" He knitted his brows together, clearly aggravated by her reasonable answer. "I… should take a turn with the cart anyway."

"I suppose I could leave it with you…?" She began unstrapping the harness.

"Aren't you going to walk with me?"

"Honestly? I didn't think you wanted me to." She couldn't hide the bitterness in her voice.

"That's not why…" His face flushed and he scowled, understanding her implication. "What happened yesterday was humiliating," he said slowly, his eyes fixed on his food. "I'm not accustomed to losing control like that. And now you've seen it twice. Yes—I thought some distance would ease my embarrassment. But I don't want you to leave me behind," he finished in an unusually desperate tone.

"Then don't leave_ me_ behind."

He tipped his chin in concession. "I won't."

"Then I won't either." She sat down beside him, her face serious. "And… you don't have to be embarrassed. Everyone's dealing with a lot right now. Sometimes the best thing to do is to let it out," she said, feeling a bit like the pot calling the kettle black. "There's nothing wrong with that."

He eyed her warily for a moment before returning his gaze to his food. "I haven't had much success with 'letting it out.' When I do, it tends to transform into anger and I… overreact."

She let out a small chuckle. "Well, if you ever need to vent that anger, I'm willing to listen."

He arched a brow. "Somehow, I doubt you'd like what I had to say."

She looked over in surprise. "What? Did _I_ do something?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No. Nothing like that… Never mind. It doesn't matter now," he said, standing and offering her his hand. "We should continue. I'm not that hungry anyway."

She frowned, wondering if she should push him to eat _something_ but as her mother used to say, 'choose your battles wisely.' She accepted his hand deciding that the battle she had just won was far more important.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira insisted they cover as much distance as possible since it was such a long trip so the suns were low when they finally stopped for the night. She did a quick check of their food and pulled out a small portion for dinner, handing Knives his share. He surveyed the meal appreciatively. She'd picked up some dried fruit and a few other things that would keep their diet from being quite so boring. They ate quickly before brushing their teeth, washing up and changing for bed. The soft fabric pants and t-shirt Kira had bought for Knives to sleep in were much more comfortable than the clothes he'd been wearing to bed before. She extended her arm towards him, offering the small blanket. He wrinkled his nose skeptically, making her grin in amusement. "Fine." She tossed the thing back on the cart. "We'll get you a bedroll in Barstow."

He nodded, careful to contain a pleased smirk. He was glad to have an excuse to sleep beside her again. They climbed in and he lay with his front facing her back, his head resting on one arm with the other arm at his side. He watched a few strands of her hair move slightly in the breeze and narrowed his eyes. It wasn't enough. He wanted to be closer. He began inching forward slowly when, to his astonishment, she leaned backward so her shoulder was pressed against his chest. He froze. Was she asleep? Did she know what she was doing?

After a few agonizing moments, he reached out a hand and placed it very lightly on her side. She curled her fingers around his and pulled his arm so it was draped over her waist. His heart began racing and it took him a moment to fully recognize that the frantic pounding in his chest was excitement. Not the satisfied anticipation of well laid plans coming to fruition or the ferocious, driving excitement of battle. No… this was something new. It was… terrifying. But somehow the fear only seemed to enhance the thrill of it.

She let go of his hand and reached back, pulling his hips closer so his entire body was pressed against hers. A sudden wave of arousal rushed through him catching him by surprise. He knew about sex, of course, and had pleasured himself, but he'd never been attracted to another being and certainly hadn't participated in any sexual activity. There had been no others of his kind, and even though humans were physically similar, he had cast them away before he'd reached maturity. By the time he had sexual urges, the idea of fucking a human disgusted him.

But now… Well, a lot had changed, hadn't it.

He felt himself growing harder. She must feel it too since the thin fabric of his pants did little to conceal it. A pang of insecurity struck him. Was this what she wanted? Was this what _he_ wanted? Before he could think on it further, she began undulating her backside slowly against him, sending him into an entirely new realm of sensation. He groaned aloud at the tingling pleasure radiating from his groin and gave in to the experience, pressing himself against her. He hadn't planned on _this_, but now that it was before him, he found it impossible to resist.

He nuzzled her hair, letting out sighing breaths as she continued her movement. He tightened his arm around her waist, using the leverage to push himself against her more forcefully. The increased pressure brought another groan from his lips and a faint snicker from her. She put her hand on his, removing it from her waist and gently moving it between her legs.

Oh shit. He had no fucking clue what to do. He began vaguely massaging her pelvic region as he racked his brain trying to remember everything he could about female anatomy. Right. They had a bundle of nerves at the top of their vulva. He should aim for that… although how the hell he was supposed to find it under her clothing was beyond him. He needed to go deeper. He pulled his hand away and slid it down her pants so only a single layer of thin fabric was protecting her. He felt around for a moment and then began rubbing where he estimated her clitoris _should_ be. To his relief, she let out a gasping breath.

As he continued his ministrations, she stopped her enticing motion on his cock in favor of arching her pelvis against his hand, but to his surprise, he didn't even mind. He'd never realized how affecting someone else's pleasure could be. The feeling of her body trembling as she tensed into him, the wetness that had begun to seep into the fabric of her panties, and the sounds of her needy hums were more than enough to fuel his lust. He could hear her losing control and increased the pressure of his fingers against her, curious if he'd be able to push her over the edge like this. She let out a delicious moan and whispered his name.

Well… _a_ name. "… Alex…"

He knew he shouldn't be angry but illogical offense took hold, rancorous enough that it made him pull his hand away. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to understand _why_ he had pulled away. She turned over so she was facing him and put a hand on his jaw, drawing him into a kiss.

It was insignificant. He knew it was. It was simply two mouths pressing together… and… a tongue, gently sliding over his lip lower lip… and _his_ tongue eagerly coming to meet it… But for some reason, as unimportant—as _meaningless_ as it was, he found it irresistibly enticing. He wanted more of it.

She leaned away for a moment and he could just make out her playful smile in the last rays of sunlight. She began kissing him more fiercely, pausing for a moment to unzip the bedroll, giving them room to move. In a surprising display of dominance, she pushed him to his back, straddling him, her core pressed against his cock, and kissed him so deeply it left him spinning.

Not willing to be taken over so easily, he leaned into her, pushing himself to a seated position with her perched in his lap. His sudden maneuvering caused her to giggle and she began tugging at his shirt, which he hastily removed. She followed his lead, removing her own. He wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her against him, while his other hand reached forward tentatively, fondling one of her breasts. He brushed his thumb over her nipple, marveling as it hardened under his fingers. Without thinking he bent down and took it into his mouth, licking over the pebbled bump and grazing it lightly with his teeth. She gasped in response, bringing a grin to his lips, and he repeated the action on the other nipple, relishing the various sounds his efforts brought forth from her. She tipped his face up, planting a final caress on his lips before pushing him to his back again. This time he submitted.

She began feathering kisses slowly down his chest and abdomen. When she reached his groin, she removed his pants with his help and knelt over his cock. He gripped tightly to the fabric of the bedroll as she placed sucking, lapping, teasing caresses all around his erection without making direct contact, until he was throbbing with need. He was a moment away from demanding that she stop tormenting him when he was suddenly engulfed in a wet heat. His eyes fell closed and all he could do was whimper as she began sliding her mouth and hand up and down him. Why the hell had he waited so long to do this?

Too soon, she released him. She quickly slid out of the rest of her clothes and straddled him again, grabbing his cock and guiding it to her opening. She lowered herself slowly onto it. He grunted at the sudden explosion of heat and friction, thrusting upward instinctively, sheathing himself entirely inside her. She started rocking her hips against him sending waves of pleasure with every motion. He lightly thrust in time with her rhythm, causing a soft moan to escape from her.

She lowered herself so she was leaning over him, her arms on either side of his head, and began moving more forcefully against him. He dug his fingers into her thighs, pushing as deeply into her as he could. Gradually she sped up her pace, arching her back as she rode him and driving Knives into a state of frenzy. He bucked against her passionately and she met him with a desire of her own. He felt her pelvic muscles grip onto him and then suddenly, they seemed to shudder around him as she let out an erotic cry, propelling him into a quivering convulsion of his own. He pulled her tightly to his chest as he thrust into her a few final times, releasing the last of his seed and letting out a trembling breath as a post-orgasmic surge of euphoria flooded his body and mind. When he finally loosened his hold, she leaned back and kissed him slowly before climbing off and curling up beside him, her arm draped lazily across his chest.

"I wondered if that would happen at some point," she whispered, a smile in her voice.

He didn't reply, unsure of what to say.

She lifted her head to look at him. "Is something wrong?"

"No… I just… I've never done that before."

"… Done what exactly?"

"Any of it."

She sat up. "You mean sex? You were a virgin! Why didn't you tell me?"

"It didn't occur to me. Why? Should I have?"

"Well… no, I guess you didn't have to… but that's a big moment in a person's life. I kinda wish I would have known." She leaned over him and ran a hand through his hair, kissing him tenderly on the lips and then the cheek. "I hope you enjoyed your first time."

"I did," he said softly, a little stunned by how much he meant it.

She suddenly swore fiercely, startling him. With surprising speed, she stood and made her way to the cart, grabbing something. Knives watched her in confusion. In the light of the rising moons he could faintly make out her wiping a cloth between her legs.

Oh… Oh! "Is it supposed to do that?"

She laughed. "Well yeah. You know… gravity."

"I guess I thought it just… stayed in there."

"Believe me—I wish that were the case." He felt like such a naïve idiot. She returned and held a clean cloth out for him as well. "Uh… here," she said, almost shyly. "I guess we should get dressed and try to get some sleep. We do have a long trip ahead of us." He accepted the cloth and wiped himself off before climbing back into his clothes. When they lay down again, Knives pulled her close, basking in her warmth.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira awoke with a start the next morning. Memories of the previous night flashed through her mind. Yes. That had happened. Now what? She reached out a hand and placed it on the arm that was covering her. That had _definitely_ happened. She turned to see a peaceful face asleep beside her.

Shit… She knew so little about him. And yet somehow she'd taken the guy's virginity—'taken' being the operative word. Sure, he had been the one to move closer first, but she'd pushed things from what likely would have remained semi-innocent unspoken cuddling to outright, steamy, incredibly satisfying sex. He'd done remarkably well considering it was his first time. Although how someone that gorgeous had managed to stay a virgin was beyond her. He must be younger than he looked. Or maybe it was because of his unsociable personality? She couldn't help but smile. She kinda liked his prickly demeanor.

She sighed. Getting involved with a man on the run was definitely not the smartest thing she'd ever done. Then again, it wasn't the stupidest either… probably. Maybe. Either way, this wasn't going to end well. At best, they'd make it to Octovern, part ways, and she'd have to deal with the heartache of losing the first person she'd grown attached to since the war. At worst, he'd be discovered and captured… or killed. Maybe he was a bigger criminal than she thought…

The fact that he was so insistent on hiding his crime from her was a red flag. Then again, it wasn't like he was keen to share any other information either. Maybe he was just really private? Maybe. But she'd be an idiot to let her guard down. She almost snorted. So here she was—the world's biggest idiot. Fuck.

He looked so angelic in his sleep. It was hard to imagine him causing _too_ much trouble… She sighed and ran her fingers through his spikey black hair. His ice blue eyes fluttered open sleepily. They came to rest on her face, then opened wide, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

Yeah. He couldn't possibly be _that_ bad.

She smiled and pushed herself out of the bedroll, heading to the cart to grab some breakfast for them. She handed him his portion, which he accepted, his blush still very visible. She felt a twinge of sympathy for him. "Hey, um, do you want to talk about what happened or anything?" She sat down beside him.

He wouldn't even meet her eyes. "There isn't much to say."

"Listen, you don't need to worry. Nothing has changed. I'm still going to help you out. You don't have any obligation to me, or anything. It was just a one-time thing… Oh! And… uh… I can't get pregnant right now, so…" she trailed off weakly, feeling her own cheeks go pink. Yup. _That_ should put him at ease.

He nodded, his eyebrows furrowed. "I see."

Somehow, she didn't think her words had improved the situation. "Is there something else you wanna talk about?"

"No—of course not." He pursed his lips and looked up at her earnestly. "That was it? Just that one time?"

A bright laugh tumbled from her lips. The scoundrel! "Would you like there to be more?"

He lowered his eyes and went crimson again. "I hadn't considered it… but… yes. I would."

Even if he _was_ a criminal, he was certainly an endearing one. She leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth, amused by his surprised expression. "Then there will be." She grinned and began her breakfast.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives insisted on pulling the cart. He hoped that it would keep his mind occupied, but unfortunately, it wasn't doing the trick. His thoughts relentlessly circled around Kira and what had happened between them. And what _would_ happen between them. And when. Tonight? Every night?

He tried to suppress his building anticipation. He needed to think of something else… Like how the hell he was going to reveal to her that he was the man who had destroyed her home and family. He could never tell her. Especially not now. He kicked a pebble viciously, sending it skittering into the sand.

She turned and gave him a curious look, but continued without a word.

What would he do when they reached Vash? She'd figure it out then. Would he have to leave her before that? How long did he have? "How far is it to Octovern? Will we walk the whole way?"

"No. We might be able to catch a bus at Barstow or the waypoint after it… uh… Berien. Not sure how long the ride is."

He frowned. "Can you afford tickets for that?" He'd kept his mouth shut when she purchased him boots and clothing, not to mention their food and lodging, but she'd have to run out of money at some point, wouldn't she?

Kira looked down awkwardly. "I have a good amount saved from scavenging, and… my family left me a lot of money. I can afford it."

She was exceeding his expectations once again. She was doing exactly what he hoped for… and yet… "You've done so much already—"

"Please," she interrupted. "I have no family or friends left. I make enough money to support myself and the rest is just sitting there. I _want_ to help you. Please allow me to do so. I can at least get us to Octovern. Sound good?"

This was what he wanted—what he _thought_ he wanted. This had been his plan. So why did it seem distasteful now? "Kira…" He sighed heavily. What could he say? He still wanted her help. He still _needed_ her help. His complaint died in his throat and he looked away, feeling slightly disgusted with himself.

She scowled. "Whatever. We can worry about all this later," she ground out. "For now, let's just get to Barstow." She walked forward without another word.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives insisted hauling the cart again after an abnormally brief lunch. Kira didn't seem to be in the mood to argue so she accepted with an indifferent shrug. As much as he hated to admit it, he hoped the task would ease his growing guilt at taking advantage of her generosity.

By the end of the day, he was starting to regret his sudden attack of conscience. As usual, Kira's ire drove her pace. After the conversation earlier they'd been practically running across the desert. He was exhausted. Thankfully, she decided they could break for camp a little early since they were making such good time. After putting the crutch in place, he searched for the thin blanket and spread it over the sand before laying on it with his arms outstretched. Kira unwrapped her turban, set out the bedroll beside him and went back to the cart. She returned with a wet cloth and placed it on his forehead before handing him his dinner rations.

"Sorry about earlier," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have gotten so pissed."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

She gave him a slight nod and began eating. He pressed the cloth against his face and neck, enjoying the cooling feeling of the evaporating water, and began his meal. They ate in silence, both staring out over the monotonous beige landscape. Once the food was gone they took care of their evening rituals. There was still a little light left in the sky when they were finished so they sat together and watched the suns set.

Knives didn't like this. The air was still heavy despite her apology and he wasn't entirely sure why. "… Is something wrong?"

She turned away dismissively. "It's nothing."

He hunched forward, resting his chin on his knuckles, his elbows on his knees. It was definitely not 'nothing.' She was likely still angry about his refusal to agree to her help, which made absolutely no sense! She should be grateful, if anything. After the guilt he'd endured and the effort he'd put forth dragging the damn cart around, she was mad at him for _not_ taking advantage of her! He clenched his jaw, trying to shake the nagging unease. He growled out a curse under his breath.

"Alex?"

He nearly cursed again—that fucking name. "I'm just frustrated," he said, wishing he could explain things to her.

"I guess that makes two of us." She sighed. "I'm sorry… I'm in a mood. What you said earlier kinda set me off…"

"What I said?" What the hell had he said?

She smiled faintly. "It was more like what you _didn't_ say. It felt like an entire conversation was happening inside your head, but I didn't get to hear any of it. And I know you don't want to tell me things and I already promised I wouldn't pry and that's fine, but… I'm starting to grow pretty fond of you. It's a little confusing feeling like this about someone so guarded."

He couldn't keep from grinning. "You're fond of me?" he asked, raising a brow.

She laughed and glanced over nervously. "Well, yeah… I guess. I don't generally sleep with people unless I'm _at least_ fond of them. What, don't you like me?"

Now it was his turn to feel nervous. "Um… I…" Yes. He liked her. But to admit it so forwardly? "I… enjoy your company…"

"… Wow. Thanks for that," she said flatly.

Fuck. He'd pissed her off again. "You know what I mean," he muttered, irritated at his own hesitancy. She gave him a blank stare and he realized there was no way in hell she'd get over this if he didn't say it outright. He could feel his face heating up and he dropped his gaze. "I do like you. Of course I do…"

She ran her fingers along his jaw and placed a quick peck on his cheek. "Good," she said with a smirk.

"So, you're not upset?" he asked, a little surprised.

She let her hand drop. "No. For now, I'm willing to enjoy whatever this is and let time take care of the rest."

"I'm very glad to hear that," he said, his eyes glittering as he pulled her into a kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

The trip to Barstow took a day and a half longer than expected. Kira generously took it upon herself to teach Knives everything she knew about sex and finding mutual pleasure. And he was _very_ eager to learn which lead to frequent late nights and a couple of long lunches. She was amazed at both of their stamina, but somehow, whenever she caught sight of his imploring eyes and flirtatious smirk, she couldn't resist. It was an enjoyable diversion.

He seemed to be growing more enamored with each passing day. He walked closer. He sat closer. He slept with his arm wrapped tightly around her. His eyes drifted to her constantly, often accompanied by a gentle grin. He still remained tight-lipped about his past, but he began asking her more about hers—about her family, and her life before the war. And she didn't mind sharing. It was sort of therapeutic talking about the good memories…

By the time they reached Barstow, she was sure he was smitten. It made sense—it wasn't unusual for someone to fall for the first person they slept with. And, to be fair, she was starting to fall for him too. Still… this wasn't a relationship. It was a fling. It couldn't be more than that unless he suddenly decided to start talking. She just hoped _he_ understood that. She suspected a difficult conversation was ahead of them.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives found himself growing increasingly attached to her. He was sure some sort of physiological response was to blame. Regardless, it made him nervous. And strangely elated. And, paradoxically, content. But mostly nervous. She was becoming an addiction. The sound of her voice, the feel of her touch, the smell of her skin, the taste of her lips—her entire being intoxicated him. Beyond that, his affection for _her_, for who she was, had grown immensely. Too much.If things continued like this it would make leaving her later impossible.

He had decided not to tell her the truth. Ever. It would be easier for her… and for him. He'd let her bring him to Octovern and then they'd part…

Yes. Then they'd part…

Or… maybe later…

No. It had to be Octovern. He couldn't very well bring her to wherever Vash was. She'd hate him if she found out who he really was. It would be better for her never to know…

Dammit.

He put it out of his mind as they arrived at the Barstow waypoint. To his discomfort, the place was as populated as Caston. There were people walking through the main square and even a handful of children playing nearby when they stopped their cart at the inn. There were also two Federation soldiers although they didn't seem to be on the prowl. He had donned his hat and sunglasses before they entered town, and he kept his face turned away, grateful that the 'wanted' poster had shown him with his previously blond hair.

Kira rented a room and they dropped off their bags. She threw herself onto one of the two beds with a happy sigh. "Unfortunately, they didn't have a room with a large bed. But we could probably share this one…?" She arched an eyebrow suggestively and he flashed a roguish grin.

x.x.x.x.x

After the prelude of a mutual shower, they thoroughly 'tested' the sleeping arrangement and found it to be quite satisfactory. Kira stepped back into the bathroom to clean up and get dressed. When she returned, Knives was still sprawled naked across the bed, a sheet carelessly draped over his waist, and a languid smile on his face.

She couldn't contain her own reproachful smirk as she approached. "Were you planning on staying like that all day?"

"Don't you think we should test the bed one more time before we go?" he prodded, sitting up and catching hold of her wrist. He tugged her down beside him, circling his arms around her, and began caressing her neck.

She snorted, nudging him away. "I don't know how you manage to bounce back so quickly every time."

"Just lucky, I guess," he said, looking very self-satisfied.

She stood. "Well, you'll have to save your luck for later. I have errands to run. You can wait here if you want…"

He let out and disappointed grumble. "No. I'll go with you," he said glancing around the room for his clothes.

x.x.x.x.x

They headed back into the town. The Federation soldiers were thankfully gone. Kira went buzzing from shop to shop, gathering information about travel in the area, and the best places to purchase provisions. They learned there was no bus from town so they'd have to walk to the next waypoint, but the shopkeeper they spoke to assured them that they could catch one all the way to Octovern from there.

After a quick bite of lunch they continued hunting for supplies, gathering what food they would need for the next leg of their trip before refilling their waterskins. Once again, their search for a bedroll was fruitless, despite a very lengthy and dogged hunt. Knives thought it was a waste of effort going to such trouble to acquire something they didn't even need now, since he'd probably just share hers for the rest of the trip, but it had become a matter of pride for Kira. Her continued failure put her in an aggravated mood, which he found rather endearing.

She continued ahead while Knives stopped to look through a window at an array of shining revolvers. He wasn't as skilled as Vash—he'd never needed to be—but he was a still a good shot. There was no way he would ask for something that expensive but he did wish Kira hadn't sold the shotgun. He'd feel a lot safer if they were both armed… He glanced over and saw her, a block away, perusing some flyers pinned to the side of a building.

Shit.

He began walking to her swiftly as she moved methodically through the collection. He was still half a block away when she paused, her eyes focused on something. She lifted one of the pages to get a better look at an older page underneath before ripping it off the board and examining it closely, her brows knitting together.

His heart sank and he came to a stop a few yards from her. No… Please. Not now.

She looked up at him, her face a potent mixture of confusion, anger and pain. He took a step towards her and she immediately stepped back.

It was over. She knew who he was.

"… Let me explain." He took another step.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" she snarled, a look of hatred in her eyes.

No, dammit! Not fucking now!

He froze. He wanted to explain everything, but she was clearly not in a receptive state… not that an explanation would do much good anyway. What should he do? He'd be caught if he pushed her and she made a scene. He reached into her mind but the chaos inside made it impossible to read. His best choice was to give her space, allow her to collect her thoughts, and try to collect his own. He dropped his gaze. "I'll be waiting at the inn when you're ready to talk." After a moment, he added, "If you bring anyone with you…" He paused and amended his words. "_Don't_ bring anyone with you."

He hoped she understood his caustic tone… or misunderstood it. It was more of a bluff than anything. The last thing he wanted was to have to fight his way out of a group of soldiers trying to arrest him. His telepathy would be useless if too many swarmed him. He could have been more bellicose in his threat, but he also didn't want to push her away.

He turned and stalked off as formidably as possible, again hoping a little intimidation would keep her from turning on him—from turning him in. It had always worked on the Gun-Ho Guns. Fear had kept them loyal.

An immediate wave of regret washed through him. He didn't _want_ to scare her. He didn't want to control her like this. He didn't want to be that anymore. But he had to protect himself. His goal was still to reach Vash. Maybe he should leave without giving her the chance to betray him…

No. He had to speak to her. He wanted to explain. He wanted her to understand. And besides, without her he had nothing. Trying to find someone new to help him would be just as dangerous as trying to remain with her. She was kind. Maybe she would listen… Maybe she'd understand. If there was even the slightest chance he could fix this… he had to try.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira's whole body shook as she watched him go. It was him… He was _him_! She was going to be sick… A moment later her body complied and she retched onto the ground.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around violently only to see an older gentleman, concern on his face. "You okay, honey?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm fine. Thanks," she mumbled, folding up the wanted poster and sliding it into her pocket. She smiled weakly and walked away. She really didn't want to be around anyone right now. She walked through a few streets until she was far enough from the populated center of town to let her guard down and then sunk to the ground, sobbing.

What the hell was she gonna do? She'd been travelling with a monster—the vicious creature that had almost wiped humanity from the planet. He'd caused everything! He'd killed her family and friends. He was the reason she had no one left. And just when she thought she'd gotten close to someone he'd taken that from her again! He was _using_ her! In so many ways! From the day he met her, he'd taken advantage of her. She had protected him. She'd fed him and clothed him. She had _killed_ for him!

Oh god.

She took heaving breaths as another bout of nausea gripped her stomach. She had _cared_ about him. Tears continued to roll down her cheeks for what felt like an eternity as an unbearable anguish roiled within her, slowly churning until, finally, it mellowed into cold hatred. She sniffed, wiping her eyes, and took a deep breath. What was she going to do?

He was waiting at the inn…

She could turn him in—bring some soldiers and have him arrested. Unfortunately she had no idea what he was capable of. Those bandits had done some damage, so it might be possible to overwhelm him. Then again, he'd fought against both the Federation and the No Man's Land armies in Octovern, and even though he'd lost, it had been a difficult fight.

Of course, that was back when he was 'merged' with the angels. She'd read an article about it after the battle was over, but the concept was complicated. They'd glossed over exactly what it meant other than implying that he had somehow he had been connected with them and could direct their energy as a weapon. But the article made it sound like he was using the angels against their will for his own selfish means. So why had he been so upset when he learned they died…?

Whatever. What mattered was what he could do now. He didn't have the angels' power, but she had no idea what he could do on his own. Even at a smaller scale it might be devastating. If there was any chance he could rain terror down on this village, she didn't want to provoke him. His not-so-subtle threat implied he wouldn't go quietly if the soldiers tried to take him.

Strangely though, he didn't seem to want to fight. He'd been avoiding the Federation since they'd been together. Maybe his defeat was thorough enough that he had given up. If that were the case, the safest thing for him to do now that she'd discovered him would be to run. She'd report that she'd seen him, but he could probably disappear again. So why was he waiting? To 'talk?'

Was he still expecting her help? Her lips curled in disgust. How could he _possibly_ think she'd help him after everything he'd done? Or was he planning on forcing her to…? A shiver of fear ran down her spine.

He was using her to get to Octovern… What if he hadn't given up at all? What if he was travelling there to strike the final blow? To plant a bomb or… something…

She could still turn him in.

No… no, she couldn't risk it. Fuck! Her thoughts continued to tumble over themselves.

He was waiting. Why was he waiting? Did he trust her? Did he need her? If he didn't kill her the moment she walked through the door, maybe she could take care of him herself… There was already blood on her hands. She could get revenge. For her parents, her sisters, her friends, her entire city. She could get revenge for the pain he'd caused across the planet. For everyone. Even if she failed and he killed her, he'd draw attention to himself.

It wasn't like she had much to live for now anyway… not since he'd taken it all.

He'd taken everything. Everyone. Painfully! Cruelly!

A sudden memory of him walking beside her, a sneer on his lips flashed through her mind. He misled her. Intentionally. Had he been laughing at her this whole time? Laughing while she told him of the life she used to have? The life he'd destroyed…

She felt fiery rage building inside her and slammed a fist into the sand with a strangled cry. He had to pay—he deserved to suffer. And she wanted justice! She rose and strode to meet him with new determination.

x.x.x.x.x

It was dusk when she made it back to the inn. The man in the lobby greeted her cheerfully. She put on a fake smile and walked up to the front desk, borrowing a pencil. She scrawled a short message on the back of the wanted poster and had tucked it back in her pocket. If things didn't go well, at least she could leave a clue to his whereabouts. Once she was done, she made her way to the room and opened the door. Knives was inside, sitting on the end of the unmade bed they'd shared earlier. She took a slow breath, walking in and closing the door behind her.

He stood when she entered. Nothing in his stance even hinted at remorse. "Kira. I need you to understand." His voice was cold and commanding, his face a mask of indifference. If he felt anything, he was hiding it well.

She walked over to her bag and began navigating to one of the pockets in it.

"I was trying to protect my family," he said slowly.

She laughed bitterly. "Your family…? Yes. Family is important." Her finger brushed against something hard and metallic. She drew out the gun, staring at dully, a lump suddenly forming in her throat. More memories of him flashed through her mind. The almost shy smile he sometimes gave her. The warm laugh she'd coaxed out a handful of times. "You killed everyone I cared about," she hissed through clenched teeth, turning to him and releasing the safety.

He didn't move. He didn't even seem nervous. "And now you will kill me?" he asked, his expression still unreadable.

"You deserve to die." She cocked the gun and pointed it at him.

An expression of hurt marred his features, only for an instant. He exhaled and went back into his emotionless state. "I can't let you do that." He began walking to her and she squeezed the trigger.

Except, she didn't squeeze the trigger. It was as if her entire body was frozen in place. Her fingers refused to respond. She felt a wave of panic as he reached out and took the gun from her hand, uncocking it and removing all the bullets. He put them in his pocket and handed the gun back to her. Suddenly she felt the hold on her give way, her limbs going slack. She shook off her shock and whipped out with the gun, trying to clock him in the side of the head with it, but he grabbed her wrists with a snarl before it made contact, restraining her arms behind her so she was pressed into his chest.

"Don't do that again," he said icily before releasing her.

"Fine." She tossed the gun into her bag and rammed her shoulder into his abdomen, knocking him backwards onto the bed. She threw herself on him and began punching him wherever she could.

"Dammit! Stop!" he shouted, grabbing her arms and flipping over, pinning her underneath him. She squirmed to get away but he pressed down hard, holding her in place. "Don't make me do this. I don't want to hurt you."

"You already did, you fucking bastard!" she screamed.

He winced. "I know!" He pushed off her and moved to the end of the bed. "I know… I did. I hurt you and many others… maybe everyone on this planet. I… regret it… but it's too late now. "

"You _regret_ it? Then why the fuck did you do it?"

"My sisters were dying! They were being drained of energy, and when they ran out, they were forced into one 'last run,' a massive power generation that took everything they had left, ripping their bodies apart in the process! I couldn't let it continue!" His control was gone—he was almost shouting at her, his eyes glinting dangerously.

"I've seen what humans can do," he growled. "I've seen your history. I've seen how much pain you're willing to inflict for the sake of your species. I went too far, I realize that now, but I was not the one to start this! Humans went 'too far' long before I did. They _killed_ the first of my kind. They strapped her to a table and experimented on her—fucking _tortured_ her—for almost a year until her body gave out. She died in _agony_!" When he'd finished, he was breathing heavily.

Kira was stunned. It in no way made up for her loss, or the rest of the planet's, but…

His furious expression wavered and he looked tired. "I truly am sorry for the people you lost. I know it doesn't mean much, but I am. And… it was a mistake. But it _was_ a war."

"It was _genocide_!"

He opened his mouth for a moment, before closing it and nodding. "I was… wrong. It was wrong."

She clenched her jaw, unsure of how to proceed. "What will you do if I turn you in?"

He lifted his gaze, his eye boring into hers. "I'll fight. I doubt they'd let me live very long if they caught me. And… I need to see Vash."

"Vash…? Your brother. That's right, I've heard that. Vash the Stampede. Why do you need to see him?"

"As I told you, I abandoned him. I left without saying what I should have… Actually, I died without saying it."

She wrinkled her nose. Was he being dramatic? "You died?"

"I used the last of my energy. I assumed it would kill me, like the 'last run' did to the angels, but instead I… well, I'm not entirely sure what happened, but a year later I woke up in a bulb in Delnashville. That was just a couple days before you found me."

She shook her head. The stream of information was overwhelming. So much of it was hard to believe, yet he didn't strike her as a liar—a manipulative cock, yes, but not a liar. At least he was finally answering her questions. "Why did you agree to let me accompany you?"

He looked down uncomfortably. "At first, I thought your supplies and knowledge of the current state of things would be useful, but I grew to enjoy your company as well."

"Why did you sleep with me?"

A deep blush spread through his cheeks, an unusual sight now that she knew who he was. "I'm not entirely sure. Lying close to you felt… comforting. And then it just… happened." He looked up solemnly. "Kira, I didn't—"

"You know that it's over, right?" she said, cutting him off.

He nodded, staring at his hands. "What will you do?"

Knives. Million Knives. She growled and punched a pillow beside her. "You asshole! Why did you have to be… you?" She heaved an exhausted sigh. "I don't know what I'll do. I really don't."

"I can leave if you want," he said softly. "You'll never have to see me again."

"Is that what you want?"

"… No." His blue eyes were somewhat pleading. "I want to continue with you. I want you to help me find Vash."

"Why the hell should I help you?"

He let out a short, pained laugh. "You shouldn't. There's no reason you should go to any more trouble than you already have." He pushed himself up off the bed. "This was a mistake. I'll go."

"Alex—er… Knives. Wait."

He turned, his previously controlled expression gone. His eyes were shadowed, his forehead creased. Even his posture evoked fatigue instead of the stern confidence he displayed when she first walked in. He looked… defeated.

"You will stay here for the night." Her words felt heavy as she spoke. She couldn't let him leave. She couldn't turn him in. Even if he let her, she didn't want him to fight, as he'd said he would. It was painfully clear that he was not powerless—the control he'd taken of her body was terrifying. But he also wasn't as threatening as she had expected him to be—at least not to her.

His story was… complicated. Everything was complicated. She needed time to think. She needed to rest. She'd keep him here and make a decision in the morning.

He lowered his eyes. "Very well."


	12. Chapter 12

Knives was snoring softly when Kira woke the following morning. She lay there, watching him as he slept, still examining her options. He didn't seem to be preparing another war against humanity, at least not today, so there wasn't as much urgency to her decision. And if he planned to kill her, he could easily have done it when he froze her in place. What he'd said before was still true—he needed her help. It was in his best interest to keep her alive. And she… well, she wasn't sure what the hell she was going to do.

For a brief moment, she considered shooting him while he slept, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She needed more time and more information. She'd travel with him to Berien and make her choice there. But first, she needed to test something…

She reached into her pack to retrieve the small blade. He could control her body, but how quickly? The bandit had hit him, so maybe if he were surprised he wouldn't be able to stop her. She stood over his bed, lightly shaking his shoulder to wake him. He opened his eyes blearily and she took a step back. "Hey… it's morning. We need to head out soon."

He sat up. "We?"

"I'm going to take you to the next waypoint. After that, I'm not sure."

"I… understand."

His eyes were facing down. As fast as she could, she pressed the blade to his jugular. He didn't even flinch, just raised his eyes to meet hers. She pushed forward until a small trickle of blood began running down his throat.

"Why aren't you stopping me?"

"… I was listening to your thoughts," he admitted reluctantly. "I know you don't intend to kill me right now. I thought… this might make you feel more at ease."

She pulled away. Fuck. She did _not_ feel more at ease. He pressed a hand to the small cut, staunching the blood. She put the knife away, refusing to look at him. "Let's go."

x.x.x.x.x

The town disappeared behind them as the suns rose into the sky. It was a four-day trip to Berien, which meant Kira had four days to figure out who the hell Knives was and what he wanted. She insisted on pulling the cart to start but he stayed close. She couldn't stop looking over at him, amazed that she hadn't placed his identity before. He looked just like his poster. To be fair, she'd only seen it once or twice when it was first released, but it was so clearly him.

"Knives. Tell me about yourself."

He raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Everything. I need to know who you are. What you can do. What you want, now and going forward… Will you try to kill us again?"

"No. That is done. Even if I had my power, I don't desire that now."

She let the weight of the cart rest on her shoulders and reached for the crutch. Without a word she swung it out, hard, hitting him squarely on the back and knocking him a couple steps forward.

"What the hell!" he barked, his eyes flashing.

She smiled. "So I _can_ surprise you. That's good to know."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because fuck you! You're making it sound like the war was just a fleeting whim you were following."

"It wasn't!" he snarled. "It was _everything_ to me! I spent my entire life trying to reach that goal. It was my sole purpose for existing and once it was gone," his voice faltered, "there was no reason for me to continue living."

"You'll excuse me if I have no fucking sympathy for you."

He shot an indignant glare.

Kira began walking again. "So what's your reason now?"

"I don't know! I just want to see Vash. I want to apologize for everything I put him through. Then he can decide what happens to me. If he wants me to turn myself in, I'll do it—willingly."

"What happened between you two?"

"It's a long story…"

"Do I look busy?"

He frowned. "Very well. My brother and I were born on one of the ships—"

"What? You mean the SEEDS ships?"

"Yes."

"In space?"

"Yes."

She made a face. "That's impossible! You'd be over 150 years old!"

"Yes. 154 to be precise."

Kira's eyes grew wide.

"Only one crewmember was keeping watch out of hypersleep at the time—a woman named Rem. She raised my brother and I through our first year of life. As plants, we age very differently from humans. At the end of our first year, we were physically equivalent to a human child of seven or eight years old. Mentally we were already as intelligent as your most adept scientists. Rem was… kind. She was gentle. She took care of us and… we loved her."

"Shortly after our first birthday, we learned about the first independent plant and what they'd done to her." Anger seeped into his voice. "We also learned that Rem had been involved in the experiments and hadn't stopped them. I lost all faith in humanity. I felt betrayed. If she—the closest thing we had to a guardian—wouldn't or couldn't protect us, then I had to. I thought that I could destroy the humans on the ships in one fell swoop. I changed the navigation system so we would crash on this desolate planet."

Kira looked at him in horror. "No…"

He turned away. "I'm sorry for that as well. It was… a mistake."

"You caused the Big Fall? But… you were just a child…" It was too much to believe.

"I thought I knew what I was doing…" He shook his head. "I set the ships containing most of the plants to land safely. I planned to have Rem escape with Vash and I, since he was still very attached to her, but when the ships began to descend, she pushed us into a pod and remained behind to try to fix the problem. She was able to save a portion of them, but lost her life in the process."

"When I told Vash what I'd done he was furious. But he continued to follow me. After all, we only had each other. For decades we watched the humans struggle to survive—I thought this desert would be the end of them. But gradually, they took root and began to grow as a race, using our sisters' energy to do so. I wanted to wipe them out but Vash fought me every step of the way. Eventually, I realized I could never finish what I'd started with him at my side, so… I left…"

His tone implied that it wasn't as simple as that. She cocked her head in an obvious demand for more information and he grimaced.

"Please don't ask…"

She let out a weary sigh. Somehow she suspected she'd be happier not knowing. "So what happened next? You left. Then what?"

"I continued learning what I could about our abilities as independent plants and recruited a sort of militia while he went off and lived amongst the humans. Eventually, I thought I'd found a way to make him understand that, as much as he might wish it, he was _not_ human. I thought if I showed him the magnitude of power we were capable of, he would understand that we were so much greater than they were. I caused him to release his energy in July, where he was living in at the time, but he aimed it at me, destroying most of my body along with the city and almost killing me."

This was getting ridiculous. "Of course you caused July too." It wasn't even surprising at this point. She'd be willing to bet he was behind the hole in the fifth moon as well—basically _anything_ attributed to Vash was probably his fault. Maybe she should have killed him while he was sleeping…

"My men took me to a plant where I spent years recovering. Once I had a new body I made my final attempt to win Vash over, but he refused to join me. I began trying to save our sisters while keeping him imprisoned where he couldn't interfere. He pleaded for your lives, but all that mattered to me was rescuing the angels. I thought it would be a fitting end for your race." He met her eyes. "I was wrong…"

Kira looked away. She wasn't about to give him even a hint of forgiveness after hearing all of that.

"Eventually he broke free and allied with the No Man's Land and Federation forces in Octovern. I believe you know the rest."

She was speechless. The idea that he was going to try to apologize to his brother or anyone was almost laughable now.

"Laughable. Yes, I suppose you're right."

She glared at him. "That's very rude, listening in on someone's thoughts."

"I was just making sure you weren't about to pull a gun on me again." He sent her a cold look.

"So you're allowed read my mind to ease your worries, but I just have to take your word for it that you're not heading to Octovern to finish what you started?"

"Yes," he said simply.

She scowled, mentally calling him every bad word she could think of. "Is there anything else you can do that I should know about?"

He shrugged. "I think you've already noticed most of the other traits that differentiate my species from yours. We live longer, obviously, and age differently. We are more intelligent than you and are physically stronger and faster," he said with a slight arrogance. "Our bodies are also more resilient and heal quickly. Most of our 'power' comes from an inter-dimensional energy gateway—something like an organ in our arms. We can draw on that energy and use it in a variety of ways."

"But yours is gone…"

"Yes… mine is gone. I spent most of it reforming my body after the angels were ripped away from me. All I have left are my latent physical traits and my telepathy."

A crease formed between her brows as a distrustful curiosity struck her. "Why are you telling me all of this anyway?"

"As I said, I still want your help. I… hope… that by being honest with you, I might secure it. And you deserve to know the truth. I never wanted to lie to you before," he said, gazing at her sincerely. "I just didn't see any other option."

She eyed him skeptically, absently chewing the inside of her cheek. She wanted to believe him, but after all of the calculated half-truths he'd been feeding her, it was difficult.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira's mind was muddled when they finally stopped for the night. She'd been interrogating Knives all day. He'd elaborated on some of the things he'd touched on in their first conversations and didn't seem to be hiding much, if anything. He answered her questions without hesitation. He was legitimately trying to appease her, although she still wasn't sure if it was for her sake or his…

The full scale of damage he'd cause over his century and a half of life was astonishing. He was… apologetic… for some of it at least… Honestly, it was hard to gauge the level of his remorse. She could sense uncertainty and regret when he spoke of some things, but there was still a deep animosity toward humanity over their exploitation of his sisters… and the death of the first independent. She'd barely even touched on _that_ subject. He bristled at the slightest mention of it…

Beyond what he'd told her, a few of her own memories kept replaying in her mind. He hadn't been faking the two panic attacks. He was definitely going through _something_, although she couldn't be certain what it was. Unfortunately, even if he was being honest and he truly felt guilt for what he'd done, it might not be reason enough to overlook his past.

Her decision was further complicated by the mental image of him she'd created _before_ she found out the truth. A tiny portion of her mind still sympathized with the 'wrongfully accused' man she had wanted him to be. Of course, that man wasn't real and never had been, but her momentary flickers of compassion for him were an incessant reminder of her previous feelings. Granted, any sympathy she felt was quickly followed by sharp disgust, but still… it was troublesome.

Kira grabbed the bedroll and unfurled it near the cart as usual, sitting on it while she ate her dinner. Knives had sense enough to eat his meal standing, giving her some much-needed space. After their evening rituals, he approached cautiously. She raised a brow.

"… Where will I be sleeping…?"

She almost laughed. "The blanket is in the cart."

x.x.x.x.x

Knives shivered in the cold night air, his teeth chattering loudly. He was half tempted to cuddle up next to Kira outside of the sleeping bag just for some extra warmth, but… it would only piss her off. He'd made a good deal of progress with her today and he didn't want to undo it.

She hadn't forgiven him—understandably—but she mostly trusted his words. He knew the only chance he had of staying with her was to be entirely forthright, and so he had been. And… he truly did regret the pain he'd caused. The least he could do was answer her questions.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira woke first the next day. After her morning rituals she kneeled by Knives, who was wrapped tightly in the small blanket. Served him right. She put her hand on his shoulder, shaking him lightly. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

"Time to go."

He sat and rubbed a hand through his spikey black hair.

"Here." She handed him his food and they began eating in the early light.

"… That blanket is useless," he muttered.

"And?"

He gave her a disgruntled look. "Never mind."

She cursed at him in her head. "We should reach the Berien the day after tomorrow, so you only have make it through two more nights. The bus to Octovern should stop at various towns along the way, so we'll be able to stay at the inns for the rest of the trip."

He looked up in surprise. "We?"

"You… whatever." She mentally kicked herself for the slip of the tongue. Although there was no way he could afford the bus fare without her help… or lodging fees… or food. Plus, he'd have to stay out of sight, now that there were more people around who might recognize him, so getting a job would be difficult. He was fucked.

After the previous day of questioning, she'd made up her mind on one point at least: she wouldn't turn him in. Or, to put it more accurately, she couldn't bring herself to do it. He'd been right about one thing—the chances of him surviving if the Federation discovered him were slim—and she didn't have it in her to assign him such a fate. That wasn't to say she had decided to help him, or that she wouldn't tell the Federation that he was still alive, but she wouldn't bring them directly to him.

Kira climbed into the harness and couldn't help but notice the tiniest smile on his lips. Bastard had probably been listening to everything she'd been thinking… Once again, she began a mental rant against him but his smile only deepened.

x.x.x.x.x

She had said 'we.' She'd decided not to turn him in. And her mental cursing was strangely encouraging—the anger in it was less biting than it had been. She was cooling off… or warming up. Either way, it was a good thing. This was going much better than he'd hoped!

She began walking and he followed beside her. She wouldn't let him pull the cart, which he found curious. He knew she didn't trust him, but its seemed like such an odd task to be considered a 'privilege.' If anything, she should _force_ him to pull it! But he wasn't about to tell her what to do—at least not now.

"Why is your hair blond in the wanted poster?" she asked, drawing his attention.

He ran a hand through his increasingly shaggy black locks. "Actually, it's kind of a long story."

Kira snorted. "Isn't everything, with you?"

Her words bolstered his mood even further. She was comfortable enough to tease him.

"All plants have blond hair when they're born. As we use up our energy, our hair gradually turns black. They call it the 'hair darkening effect.' Once the blond is gone, it means our energy is depleted and we die… at least that's what I thought. I wasn't able to access much information about it."

"Well, that wasn't exactly a 'long' story, but at least it was unusual. Have you ever thought about growing your hair out or growing a beard or something? I mean—you look _exactly_ like your picture."

He wrinkled his nose, rubbing his hand along his extremely stubbly chin. "I hate beards…"

"I'm sure you'd hate prison a lot more, if you even made it there."

He gave her a tentative smile. "You're being helpful."

Her mood soured instantly and he mentally reprimanded himself for pushing her. "Don't get excited. I still haven't decided what to do with you. Now come on, we have a lot of ground to cover."

x.x.x.x.x

They'd been walking for several hours and Knives' optimism was starting to fade. She wasn't asking him nearly as many questions as the previous day. He didn't particularly _enjoy_ being interrogated, but her silence was disconcerting. He'd glanced into her mind a few times, but she was still just contemplating what to do.

He let out a soft huff, causing her to look over. She frowned slightly and returned her gaze to the horizon. "Knives…"

"Yes?"

"Tell me about the first girl," she said, her voice measured.

He pursed his lips. This was the one topic he really didn't want to discuss. Even after all these years, the memory still put him on edge. So far, she seemed to sense his agitation and hadn't addressed it in depth, but finding Tessla had been such a critical moment in his life—the moment when his world had imploded—of course she'd want more information.

"Vash and I were exploring a portion of the ship we'd never been to when we came across information on Tessla in one of the lab computers. It was strange… it was almost like she led us there… like she wanted us to find her. At first we were excited. We thought we were the only ones of our kind, so to learn that there was another was…" He shook his head. How quickly their elation had turned to horror. "We scrolled through the data and images and discovered all of the grotesque things they'd done to her in the name of research," he fairly spat the word. "They didn't even give her a proper burial when she died. We found her, dissected and floating in a tank. I..." He exhaled heavily. "It was more than I was prepared for."

"And that was when you decided to kill us?"

"… Yes… That was where it began. I actually fainted from the shock. When I awoke, I realized what I had to do. I couldn't let that happen to any of my kind again. I had to stop the humans. It was the only way to protect us," he said firmly.

She let out a short, mirthless laugh, causing him to scowl. What could she possibly find amusing about this?

"You think it's funny?"

"It's fucking hilarious…"

Cold fury filled him. "And why is that?" he growled.

"This whole war was just your inability to cope with a childhood trauma."

He narrowed his eyes. "Be very careful with your next words."

"Or what? You'll kill me? So what! In case you hadn't noticed, my life does not matter to me, and do you know why? Because you destroyed _everything_ that gave it meaning! Now," she said, letting out a short breath, "back to my point, and feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. You were traumatized as a child, and your entire life has been a vain attempt to rectify that, yes? Humans killed the first of your kind so you decided to fight back."

He didn't respond so she continued.

"Look, I'm sorry that you were hurt, and I'm sorry that the girl before you died in such a horrible way. What happened to her was truly awful and wrong, but at the same time I don't think it makes up for _any_ of the things you've done. You can't just use it as an excuse to do whatever you want—to _kill_ whoever you want! You shouldn't have attacked us like that."

"Then what should I have done instead?" he hissed, his eyes glinting.

"You should have worked through it, and maybe even accepted that what happened was a bad choice made by a very small number of people! You should have moved on instead of going to war with an _entire species_ just to get revenge! I know you were a kid, and I can _almost_ understand you overreacting then, but after you grew up, you should have looked for a more diplomatic solution. Did you even _try_ to reach out to us with your demands or were you too preoccupied with your warped attempt at justice to bother? You didn't even give us a chance! Instead of attacking us you should have dealt with your pain like a normal fucking person!"

How _dare_ she speak to him like that! "I should have dealt with my pain? Like how you dealt with _your_ pain—by burying it so deeply inside yourself that living in the cemetery of your former city didn't even bother you?"

For a moment she was speechless, then her face twisted in violent rage. "You… you fucking _bastard_! You have _no idea_ what I went through! What I'm _still_ going through!" She began stomping over to him, causing him to take a few steps back. She was all but shouting at him. "You're… you're _evil_! You're a fucking _monster_! I wish I had left you to _die_! This was a mistake… this… We're done! We are no longer travelling together so—go! I don't care where, just go!" She turned away from him and began marching forward, furious tears streaming down her cheeks.

Fuck… fuck fuck fuck. How could _she_ be mad at _him_! Well… of course he knew how, but she was being a bitch! What now? He had no food or water. He sort of wished he'd been pulling the cart… He started walking alongside her, hoping she'd calm down.

A moment later she caught sight of him turned with a snarl. "Dammit! I said go!" She grabbed his pack and threw it in his direction along with one of the waterskins. "Leave me the fuck _alone_!"

Fuck. What now… Why had he said those words to her? He was supposed to be winning her over.

He expected her to lash out, just not about Tessla. That was the one topic he thought was sacred. But… she wasn't defending what happened, she was criticizing his response.

And he _had_ overreacted. He'd accepted that much, at least.

But for her to dismiss his pain so coldly! To mock him! She couldn't understand what he'd gone through. She hadn't been there!

And so he had undermined what _she_ had gone through. He had dismissed _her_ pain… to get even… That what he always did, wasn't it. He 'got even.' That was what the war had been about. If he was being entirely honest with himself, it had been less about the angels and more about retaliation—which made their deaths so much worse. He'd been selfish. He'd been… childish, seeing the world from such a narrow perspective. He had blinded himself, refusing to entertain the notion that humans were anything but a plague, and his limited vision had cost everything.

The angels realized the truth. Vash always knew the truth. It had taken Knives too long to get there…

She was right. It was funny. That one moment when he saw Tessla's corpse and fainted had led to millions of deaths—including everyone Kira had ever known. Really fucking funny.

She was quickly disappearing into the watery waves of heat on the horizon. It'd be suicide to try to find his way on his own. All he could do was follow her. Maybe… maybe she could still forgive him…

x.x.x.x.x

It was getting late. The suns were half set and Kira was leaning against the cart, chewing on her dinner. Knives had been her shadow all afternoon—never approaching too close, but always visible in the distance. She could barely see him now, sitting in the sand, a silhouette against the setting suns.

It'd be dark soon.

And cold…

She took another bite and began tapping her fingers anxiously against the wood.

He was probably hungry. She'd forgotten about food…

He deserved this. He deserved to suffer.

It'd be dark soon… too dark to see.

He'd be fine. He'd be cold. He'd be hungry. But he'd be fine…

Shit.

She wished she could feel that rage she'd felt before. But, after spending an afternoon thinking about it, she had to admit—she'd started that fight. Granted, he'd started the fucking war… but still. She'd been pretty heartless—intentionally. She just couldn't stand the way he presented it, as if he didn't have a choice. As if he _had_ to attack humanity.

Regardless, she knew it was a touchy subject and she threw it back in his face. And… what he'd said to her wasn't entirely wrong. He wasn't entirely _right_ either, but… she did bury her pain. She did it because if she let herself get lost in it, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to come back out. She pushed it away and kept herself busy so she wouldn't have to feel it. Was that so wrong?

She didn't know anymore…

Either way, her anger had dulled. And now the smallest fragment of guilt was creeping in. She couldn't leave him out there. She sighed and put the harness back on, pulling the cart in his direction. He stood and began walking towards her.

His face was grim when they finally met. Without a word she put the crutch in place and reached into the cart, grabbing some food and the blanket and handing them to him. He accepted carefully.

"I'm… sorry. For what I said," he murmured, staring down at his feet.

"Yeah, me too," she grumbled. "For some of it…" she added.

"Do you still want me to leave?"

Did she? A part of her did, but a part of her would just worry about where the hell he was and what trouble he was causing… And a tiny part would worry about whether or not he was okay. As much as she hated it, she knew him too well now. He was no longer the mindless villain from her nightmares, floating through the skies on his ark and tearing the planet apart, he was a person, flawed and complex, albeit with an incredibly skewed perspective of the world.

She pursed her lips, regretting her answer before she even gave it. "… No. You don't have to leave."

He let out a soft breath and she could see relief on his face.

x.x.x.x.x

Neither one spoke the following morning. Knives was too wary to even try reading Kira's thoughts as they set out. For one, her mind was growing increasingly combative against him. If he didn't hold back, she might start to notice his intrusions consciously instead of simply reacting on instinct. Secondly, he was afraid of what he might find if he did.

They had both said things they shouldn't have the previous day, but it felt like he'd made the larger mistake. His situation was much more precarious than hers. He still didn't think she'd turn him in, despite their fight, but that wasn't really what he was worried about. He may have messed up any chance he had of obtaining her help. And he really didn't want to part from her.

As minutes crept into hours, he was sure it was over. The silence continued through lunch and through the afternoon. The suns were low in the sky when she finally spoke.

"Tell me about Vash."

He looked over, momentarily stunned before he found his tongue. "What do you want to know?" He'd already told her most of the pertinent details of their lives together. She knew about their travels, the Gung-Ho Guns, the priest and the events leading up to their final battle where he'd injured Vash. What else was there?

"Tell me about who he is…"

He didn't know why, but for some reason her question surprised him. "I honestly don't know that much about him now—we parted ways so long ago. He had barely regained consciousness when I left after the war."

"Then tell me what you remember."

"He's an idiot… Well, maybe not an idiot, but he is ridiculous. He cares too much—for everyone. He's a pacifist. He's kind. He makes people laugh." He felt his throat constrict as memories of his life with his brother flooded his mind. He swallowed, trying to ease it, and continued. "He's essentially the opposite of me. He protects people. He's forgiving. He's the kind of person everyone loves."

"And you're the kind everyone hates?"

"Aren't I?" he asked it in earnest.

She gave him a contemplative look for a moment before shrugging. "Maybe… I don't know…"

He frowned—he'd hoped for more of an answer than that. Might as well be direct. "Do you hate me?"

"I want to hate you. And a part of me does, but… I can't help but feel a little sympathy for you. I don't know. I think spending so much time with you has screwed up my mind," she said with a sardonic smile. "What you did was wrong, but what happened to Tessla was wrong too. I think you were misguided, but you really thought you were doing the right thing…"

He felt his breath catch as her glimmer of understanding shone through. "Do you think… Will you ever be able to forgive me?"

She shook her head slowly. "I don't know."

"Then… what will you do? Will you turn me in?" He already half-knew the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it.

She raised an eyebrow. "As if you'd let me? But no, I won't turn you in."

"Will you come with me?"

She paused, thinking. "Yes, Knives, I will."

His heart jumped.

She sighed. "I will finish what I started. I'll take you to your brother. That way I can keep an eye on you. But if you try anything—_anything_—I will hand you over to the Federation without a second thought."

He nodded. "I understand… and… I promise I won't cause trouble."

She stared at him skeptically, but nodded back.

x.x.x.x.x

He went to sleep that night, huddled in his thin blanket feeling lighter than he had in days. She'd come. She'd be there with him. She knew who he was and was still willing to help him. He closed his eyes and pictured her beside him, running her hands through his hair, kissing him, her body pressing against his. He sighed. She may never be that close to him again, but at least she wouldn't be too far away.


	13. Chapter 13

They arrived in Berien the following day. Kira bought bus tickets and a few supplies including a second bedroll, just in case. They were able to sell the old supplies they no longer needed—most of the waterskins and the cart itself. Kira actually felt a twinge of sorrow having to say goodbye to her trusty vehicle. She and Knives made their way to the inn and rented a room for the night.

"Guess I won't be needing this for a while," she muttered to herself, tossing her turban in her pack as they settled in. She looked up at Knives. "The bus leaves first thing tomorrow. There may or may not be Federation soldiers on board, so keep your head down and your mouth shut. If anyone talks to you, just be friendly and say as little as possible. It's going to be super fucking boring, so try to stay sane."

x.x.x.x.x

A small crowd had assembled and began boarding once the rickety looking bus the following morning. The vehicle was nearly filled by the time it pulled away from the stop. They were lucky to sit together. Kira had insisted Knives take the window seat since it would keep him a little more hidden from the other passengers. He stared at the rolling sandy landscape listlessly as the suns inched across the sky. She was right—this was incredibly boring. He leaned against the window, his hat tipped forward over his face, and tried to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

The bus moved quickly over the empty desert. They arrived at the next waypoint a couple of hours later. The shuddering halt of the bus roused Knives from his slumber.

"Norston. Ten minute stop if you need to use the restroom. Please exit if this is your final destination," the driver called out in an excessively officious manner.

"You gotta go?" Kira asked.

"I'm fine."

"Well I do. I'll be right back. Save my seat."

Knives leaned back against the window staring out at the town. This one seemed a little quieter than the last one. Somehow he'd thought they would continue to get more populated the closer they got to Octovern. He closed his eyes, still a little drowsy. He'd nearly fallen back to sleep when a low voice addressed him.

"This seat taken?"

He looked up to see a fully uniformed Federation officer leaning over him with a thin-lipped smile.

"Yes. It is."

The man moved on and sat with a woman in the next row across the aisle. Knives cast a furtive glance over his shoulder. The soldier's eyes were fixed on him. Dammit. He quickly pulled his hat down a little lower. Should he get off the bus? Or would that just draw more attention? If he got off, he'd need to grab their bags and track down Kira. What if he missed her? What if she got back on and the bus took off without him? He peered out the window, scanning the street for her. Where the fuck was she anyway!

To his relief, she boarded a moment later and ambled up the aisle to him. "Whew! Glad I made it back in time. I thought for sure I'd be late and get left behind," she said unusually loudly, sporting a vivacious smile.

She sat inelegantly beside him and circled her arms around one of his, leaning over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He looked at her in shock and she widened her eyes and squeezed his arm in a 'play along' gesture. She tugged him towards her and rested her head on his shoulder.

_What are you doing?_

She jumped at his voice in her mind.

_Can you hear this?_ she thought back.

_Yes._

_Ass. Get out of my head._

_In a minute. What are you doing?_

_That soldier is less likely to keep staring at you if we're wrapped around each other like a couple. Also, if he does suspect anything, he might dismiss it if he sees you acting like this. Just relax. If anyone asks, we're newlyweds. Now get the fuck out of my head._

Knives smirked at her irritation. As much as it bothered her, it was an extremely useful way to communicate. The bus rattled into motion and they were off again. Knives rested his head against hers, thoroughly enjoying the charade.

x.x.x.x.x

The bus stopped a few more times before reaching its final destination for the day. They grabbed a room at the nearest inn and then Kira insisted they go out for dinner and a drink.

"We don't have to walk anywhere tomorrow and I'm sick of being cooped up. Come on," she said, tugging on his arm.

Knives shrugged and complied.

x.x.x.x.x

They stopped into the tavern next door. He was surprised to see a television behind the bar.

"Pretty neat, huh?" Kira said nudging him, her mood surprisingly cheerful. "The Federation introduced them. I understand they're pretty pricey though."

They sat down and ordered food and drinks. Knives couldn't stop staring at the woman on the screen. She was some kind of reporter. And something about her short black hair was so… familiar.

"You a fan?" asked the young barkeep, who must have noticed Knives' attentive gaze.

"Pardon?" he asked, unsure of the question.

"Of Meryl Stryfe?" He gestured at the black-haired woman.

Meryl Stryfe. He'd heard that name before…

"No," Kira answered. "We've actually never seen a television. Heard of them though. Who is she?"

"She's the lead reporter for NLBC, and absolutely adorable. Almost as cute as you," he said flirtatiously with a wink at Kira. She responded with a smirk. A wave of possessive irritation rolled through Knives, but he forced himself to shake it off.

"She did that whole series on, Vash the Stampede, when he came out of hiding," the barkeep continued. "You didn't hear about that?" He let out a raucous laugh. "I can't say it was the best reporting ever—mostly her chasing him around from place to place—but it was entertaining as hell. She does good work now—a lot of stories about the Federation and Octovern and stuff. Geez, you really should keep up with this shit!"

Kira widened her eyes at the man's tirade. "We'll have to, going forward."

Of course—she was that little insurance agent had been travelling with his brother! There had been two of them, if he remembered correctly. Knives had seen the pictures when Legato told him about them but he hadn't given them much thought—they seemed so inconsequential. But if this woman knew where Vash was now…

He turned to Kira and she inclined her head very slightly. "So does this Stryfe woman operate out of Octovern?" she asked the barkeep with a deliberately vacuous expression.

"Sometimes. She travels all over, but I'm pretty sure she's covering the big conference there right now."

"What conference?"

"The heads of the Earth Federation and the No Man's Land political leaders are still trying to decide what to do with our planet. You know—like how to deal with the lack or resources here. I take it you've heard of the Reformation?"

Kira let out an aggravated sigh. "Yeah, I'm aware of it."

"Well the Federation went a step further and pushed through a law to allow use of the death penalty on 'irredeemable' criminals, whatever the hell _that_ means. I guess they've been housing a lot of the more serious outlaws at a facility in Octovern, and now they're gonna start running some psychological tests to decide if they can be 'rehabilitated' or not. You know it's just an excuse to reduce the population! It's crazy! You _really_ need to pay more attention to the news."

"That sounds awful," she said, her tone impassioned. "Unfortunately, we don't get much info up in Delnashville."

The man's eyes went wide. "Ah, you're a scavenger?"

"We were."

He shook his head. "That's a rough job… We're all really grateful for the work you do," he said, with a warm smile at her.

Kira blushed slightly. "Uh, thanks," she muttered, taking another sip of beer.

The man grinned. "Here—another round. On the house." He slid two more beers over to them.

Kira tipped her head appreciatively, her cheeks still faintly pink. "Much obliged." She finished her first beer with gusto and began the second with her meal. When the barkeep seemed fully occupied she leaned over to Knives. "So we start there, right? Find this Stryfe woman?"

He nodded, taking a swig of beer. "She used to travel with Vash—they were friends, I think. There's a good chance he'd keep in touch."

x.x.x.x.x

They finished their meals quickly and decided to head back to the room. Kira left a few bills on the counter for the barkeep as they left. "Nice guy," she said lightly once they were outside. "Super helpful!"

"I suppose…" Knives said indifferently.

Kira gave him a sidelong glance. "What?"

"He was too nosy." And too 'friendly.'

She rolled her eyes. "You should be grateful. He gave us a decent lead."

"… I guess."

x.x.x.x.x

When they made it back to their room Knives quickly removed the hat and glasses. He felt like an idiot wearing them at night. Kira pulled out the deck of cards and they began playing. Knives was glad to spend time with her like this. It made everything feel normal again, as if nothing had changed between them. After a few rounds she began yawning and they retreated to their respective beds. He was just beginning to drift into unconsciousness when a soft voice broke the silence.

"Knives?"

"Mmph…"

"You awake?"

"I am now."

"… I was just wondering, what happened between you and Vash at the end of the war? I mean, I know you hurt him and you took him to that doctor, but…" She trailed off and he let out a slow breath.

"He was in a coma for several weeks. I was sure he wouldn't wake up. He'd drained almost all of his energy, as had I. I thought… I thought I'd damaged him too badly—that his body couldn't rebuild itself anymore." He paused, remembering the sight of Vash, pale and still on that bed.

"… And?"

Right. "When he finally did wake up, I decided to go. All I've ever done is cause him pain. I thought he'd be better off without me. I left the family with a token of my gratitude, and hoped that Vash would understand that he'd been right."

"So you never spoke to him after he woke up?"

"Not like I should have. He was still very weak when I left. He was only conscious for short periods of time. I asked him how he was doing… we reminisced a little. That was about it. We never really discussed what had happened, if that's what you're asking."

There was silence. "Goodnight, Knives."

His lips curved slightly. "Goodnight."

x.x.x.x.x

They woke early and boarded the rickety bus, making sure they could sit together again. The soldier was still riding as well but wasn't paying nearly as much attention to Knives today. Kira sighed dispiritedly and laced her fingers with his—better safe than sorry. He looked down at her, his expression surprisingly grateful.

_Thanks… for going to all this trouble._

She pursed her lips at his voice in her head. _This again?_

_It's the only way we can speak freely._

_What makes you think I want to speak with you? Is there a way I can block you out or something?_

His brows knitted together. _… I guess I could try to show you how later. I'm not sure if it would work for a human, but first… there's something I wanted to ask you…_

The bus shuddered and began rolling forward.

_What is it?_ Her curiosity was piqued and they had nothing better to do.

He exhaled heavily. _How did you escape Delnashville after… everything?_

Images flooded her mind, unbidden, and she took a moment to suppress the pain that inevitably followed. Once she was sufficiently numbed, she began. _After my mother died, we continued to hide. Our water ran out a few days later and we didn't have much food left so we had to head into the city to search for more, but almost everything had been taken. There were already bodies everywhere. _She grimaced at the memory.

_We searched, as much as we could, every day, but we couldn't find anything. With no water we didn't last long… My younger sister was first. One night she went to sleep and just… didn't wake up. My older sister went the next day while we were out in the city. It was too hot and… she… collapsed…_

She took a shaky breath and went on. _We weren't strong enough to bring her home, so we had to leave her there. Dad went the day after that… And then the soldiers showed up and 'saved' me. I didn't escape._

Her chest ached as visions of her family members lying crumpled on the ground bombarded her, once again breaking through her fragile emotional barrier. She remembered their sallow skin and sunken features. They'd buried her mother the day after her death. When her sisters had fallen, her father had wrapped them in blankets bound with tape so they had some dignity at least. Kira had done the same for him. When she finally made it back to the city after the war, she'd given each of them a proper burial. Her lip began quivering and a tear rolled down her cheek, soon followed by another. She wiped them away quickly, one hand still gripped to Knives'.

She began breathing deeply, in a useless effort to calm herself. She missed them so much. And now she had no idea what to do—how to go on living without them. Why did they have to die? Why had she been left on her own? If only they'd stored a little more water. If only the army had gotten there sooner.

If only Knives hadn't taken the plants. A tremendous swell of bitter hatred suddenly filled her, pushing her pain aside. It was his fault! He stiffened beside her and pulled his hand away roughly. Shit. He must still be listening.

_Knives?_

… _I'm sorry… _Even in her head, his voice was barely more than a whisper.

_Dammit. Look, I didn't mean to—_

_It's fine… You have every right to hate me. I… can feel what you felt when we share memories like this. I saw what you went through… and I know… how painful… _He let out a trembling breath and shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said again, softly.

_Knives…?_

He didn't respond—he must have cut the connection. She put a hand on his arm but he wouldn't look at her. She frowned. It wasn't like he didn't deserve it… but for some annoying reason, she didn't like seeing him upset. On top of that, her own heart still ached. She was tired—tired of worrying about the bastard who'd destroyed her life and tired of having to deal with everything alone. For once, she wished someone would worry about her.

x.x.x.x.x

He stayed quiet for the rest of the day. When they rented a room that evening he set his bag beside his bed and laid down, his back to her, without a word.

"Um… hey. I'm going to grab a bite to eat," she said lightly. "You hungry?"

"No… thanks…"

She sighed. It was ridiculous that his mood affected her at all, but… they had been close, for a little while at least. She wasn't sure if she'd call him a friend now, but a part of her still felt that connection she'd had with him. Dammit. He needed to snap out of it.

"Hey! Get up. We need to talk." She sat down next to him and began shaking his shoulder.

"Please, not now…"

"No. Now." She grabbed his arm and pulled hard, flipping him over. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He stared at her, his blue eyes dull. "I'm… sorry."

"Yeah, I know. You've apologized already, so what else is wrong?"

He sat up, his face twisted in frustration. "I don't know what to do! I don't know how to make up for what I did to you. And at the same time I'm completely reliant on you. It's infuriating! I feel so… useless!" He spit the last word, his eyes narrowed, teeth bared.

She gave him a stony look. "You want to make up for it? Too fucking bad! You can't. The best thing you can do for me right now is to stop moping about like a damn child and find a way to deal with your guilt on your own, because I'm not going to coddle you! Grow up! Accept what you did and the repercussions that you face now and move forward instead of wallowing in self-pity! Now, I'm going to go eat. You're welcome to join me, but if you're happier sulking alone, be my guest!"

x.x.x.x.x

She stood and stomped out the door, leaving him in shock. She certainly had a talent for undermining his suffering. She used to be so much nicer…

He could hear her marching down the stairs. He'd have to hurry if he wanted to follow her. He sighed but stood and went quickly out the door.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives felt a bit better the next day, although a part of him wished he hadn't felt the magnitude of her suffering or the depth of her hatred. Her feelings weren't unexpected, but… they had hurt. Still, he needed to know exactly what she'd gone through. He wasn't sure why, but he did. And Kira was right—this situation was a repercussion of what he'd done and his only option was to accept things as they were and move on. Dwelling on his regrets wasn't going to make anything better.

He needed to find a way forward. With her. With Vash. With the entire world.

With himself.

He'd been staring out at the repetitive landscape for what felt like an eternity when Kira began tapping his arm. He glanced over and she tapped a finger against her head, giving him a look. His eyes widened in surprise. _You want to talk?_

_I'm bored. Any ideas?_

_Well… I've seen some of your memories. Would you like to see some of mine?_

She arched an eyebrow. _What, are you going to try to get me back for traumatizing you yesterday?_

He could feel that she was half teasing. _No—nothing like that. They will be nice memories. I can show you where I grew up if you like…_

Her gray eyes sparkled. _The SEEDS ship? I'd love to see that!_

His lips curved in a half-smile and he closed his eyes, focusing on one of his earliest memories. Rem had taken Vash and him on a picnic in the geoplant. The brothers were playing tag in the grassy field and Rem was laughing.

Kira gasped beside him. _What is this?_

_This is the geoplant on our ship._

_No, not that. This experience. It's like I'm feeling two emotions at once._

_Oh! I didn't realize you'd feel that too… You must be picking up on my emotions within the memory._

_You were so happy._ She was grinning widely.

His smile deepened. _Would you like to see more?_

_Yeah._

He took her to the human sleep chamber, one of the days when he and Vash had wandered through the pods, imagining who each person might be, what it would be like to meet them.

_You liked us back then?_

He felt a pang of sadness. _… Yes. I did._

_Will you show me what happened?_

He turned sharply._ You mean Tessla? No! I thought you didn't want to be traumatized._

_I want to see it. To feel it._

_No! I don't want you to._

_Why not?_

_It's fucked up, that's why! You don't want to see it. It will hurt you._

He could feel her anger growing. _You've seen my worst memories. It's only fair._

He clenched his jaw. _Kira… you don't know what you're asking…_

_Please… show me._ She was determined.

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was in a dark room with Vash. They were staring at a large monitor. They began browsing through a series of notated images of their sister. What started as simple psychological and tissue testing grew increasingly invasive and brutal. The brothers could only look on in horror. Finally, after months of physical degeneration from all the cutting and chemicals they'd put into her, the girl's body gave out.

He'd clicked on the last link and the floor opened before them. A cylindrical test tube rose out of the ground with Tessla's half dissected body floating inside like some sort of forgotten project. They'd done this to her—the people she'd trusted—the people _he'd_ trusted. He wasn't safe! They'd do this to him and Vash too! They were going to kill him! Overwhelming terror seized him, choking him until his world went black.

Knives snapped back to the present and realized Kira's hand was wrapped tightly around his—her knuckles white. _Kira…? Can you hear me?_

"… Yes… I… I need a minute." She said it aloud, but quietly. Her hand was shaking.

He sent her a soothing memory of Rem reading to Vash and him. He remembered watching her expressive face—his eyes growing heavy—enjoying the sound of her voice as he drifted to sleep.

Kira exhaled slowly and her grip loosened. _God… Knives, I… I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have made you remember that._

_I'm sure it was worse for you than for me. Strangely enough, it's easier to relive your own memory. When it's someone else's, it's like you're experiencing it for the first time. It's more painful… More potent._

_So yesterday… was it like that for you?_

… _Yes. It's more intense when you don't know what to expect. When you haven't come to terms with it._

She frowned. _But still, that was horrible. You were so young. So scared._

_Yes… _He let out a soft breath.

She began brushing her thumb gently back and forth along his hand. Was she trying to comfort him? He felt a sudden shame. How could she possibly want to lessen his pain after what he'd done to her—to her family? He really had taken everything from her. He had felt her sorrow and the emptiness she was left with. And now she was giving him compassion… Why? She hated him. He knew she did.

And yet, her touch was incredibly soothing. Why hadn't he tried to comfort her the day before? It seemed so obvious now… He'd apologized, but he could have done more if he hadn't been caught up with his own damn experience!

_I just want to say thank you… for showing me that. _

Her voice startled him. He'd been so preoccupied he'd forgotten they were still connected. Thankfully it was a one-way experience unless he sent his thoughts to her intentionally.

She pulled her hand away gently. _I don't know that it changes anything, but… I'm glad to have seen it._

He dropped his gaze to his now empty palm, a peculiar flurry of emotions welling up within him. _Thank you for trying to understand. It's more than I really expected._ He raised his eyes to meet hers. _Are you okay? I mean, are you feeling better now? I know it's a lot to go through…_

She offered him a small smile. _Yeah, I'm okay. Thanks Knives._


	14. Chapter 14

Kira all but jumped off the bus when it pulled up to its destination. Octovern! They'd finally made it, and not a moment too soon. The meandering trip from Berien had taken nearly two weeks. She was so tired of sitting she almost wished they'd walked the whole way. At least they'd been able to entertain each other to some extent. They'd shared more pleasant memories back and forth, and, after nearly a week of her complaints, Knives had finally relented and taught her how to create a telepathic barrier. She spent the rest of the trip improving her control over it, with his assistance.

The only problem was that she had to focus on it continually or Knives would have access again. Since she generally wasn't concentrating on keeping her mind shielded outside of their practice sessions, he pretty much had free rein to look in whenever he felt like it. On the bright side, she was getting much better at 'feeling' him and she could push him back out if she wanted. Oddly enough, his presence didn't bother her as much as it had at first. It was more of an annoyance than anything.

Knives had initially been surprised at her success with the techniques he taught her. He'd even gone so far as to compliment her when she was able to put up a weak barrier on the first day. But his support had wavered when she first pushed him back out of her head. After that, he'd let her know, very clearly, that he _could_ force himself in if he really wanted to and had given her a few obnoxious demonstrations just so she 'understood the difference in ability between them.' But so far, if she pushed him away he would give her privacy. For a while at least…

They grabbed their bags and headed into the city. The number of people milling through the street was overwhelming, but also kind of exciting. Kira couldn't help but grin at the vibrant energy surrounding them. "So? What now?" she asked Knives cheerfully.

He seemed to enjoy the crowd a lot less than she did. His face was fixed in a disgusted glower. "We need that woman's address," he answered bluntly.

She snorted. "And did you have a plan on how to acquire it?"

He began tapping his fingers on his leg, in mild agitation. "Stryfe is a reporter, right? We could start at the station… what was it?"

"NLBC. Right. Hm… We could probably ask around for their address. Maybe one of these shops has a phonebook… It's a good place to start anyway."

x.x.x.x.x

It didn't take long for someone to point them in the right direction. They made their way through the streets and soon found the impressively large NLBC building, situated on the edge of the central market—an open square decorated with several raised gardens and filled with a clustered mixture of merchants and peddlers, travelers, beggars, street performers, and the average citizenry. The pair decided it would be safest for Kira to enter alone as Knives might be recognized, so he waited patiently outside with their packs.

The lobby of the building was bright and welcoming. A cheery-looking receptionist greeted Kira with a smile. "Welcome to No Man's Land Broadcasting, how may I assist you?" he said warmly. She was glad she was clean and actually looked halfway decent. She doubted he'd be so friendly if she was covered in the sweat and grit she'd grown accustomed to over the past year.

She put on what she hoped was a disarming smile. "Hello, I'm here to speak with Ms. Stryfe. My name is Kira Derinau." Maybe if she was bold he'd let her through.

"And is she expecting you?"

Maybe not. "No, but I have a very important matter to discuss with her. Is she in?"

The man's smile faded slightly. "I see. I believe she's in, but she's very busy. If you'd like to leave a message with me, I'll see that she gets it," he offered.

A message… 'Hi. Remember Millions Knives? Well, he's in town and we'd like to speak to you about Vash the Stampede.' Right. Not to mention the woman would have no way to reach out to her since they hadn't even rented a room yet. "Is there any chance I can speak to her now—it will only take a moment."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry miss. You could try waiting, but I'm not sure how late she'll be working."

Kira tipped her head in acceptance. "Well, thanks for your help," she said before retreating out the door.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives hadn't moved from the spot where she'd left him. He raised his eyebrows in question as she approached but she shook her head. "She's there, but they wouldn't let me see her. We could get a room and try again tomorrow?"

"Maybe we could catch her if we waited…"

"Impatient?" she teased.

He frowned. "If she's there, this might be our best opportunity. I don't want to run the risk of her leaving town before we're able to speak."

Kira nodded. "Alright. We wait."

x.x.x.x.x

They sat together on an empty bench beside one of the decorative gardens in the square. Kira's eyes drifted over the colorful array of blooming cacti and succulents that seemed to be battling for space in the large concrete basin holding them. She heard an aggravated sigh and turned to find the ever-dissatisfied Knives glaring irritably at an oblivious woman who had unintentionally encroached on his space.

Kira couldn't help but grin in amusement despite the mild sympathy she felt for him. She had learned that, even with his overconfident bravado, he was surprisingly susceptible to anxiety. "This place really bothers you, doesn't it," she said gently.

He glanced over at her for a moment before crossing his arms and staring down at his knees. She wasn't sure if he'd reply, but after a moment he began speaking quietly. "There are too many of them. I can't help but feel like they'll suddenly realize who I am decide to attack."

Kira quirked a brow. "You do know that you're by far the most dangerous person here, right?"

She saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Yes, but even _I_ can't overcome a mob. Not anymore, at least."

"Well, you're lucky _I'm_ here to protect you until we reach your brother."

He let out a short laugh. "Oh yes. I'd forgotten about _that_. How foolish of me to be concerned," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

She smirked. "Damn right."

"And you think _I'm_ arrogant…"

x.x.x.x.x

They spent the rest of the afternoon covertly monitoring the door to the studio from their vantage point. The light was growing dimmer and Kira wondered how late Knives intended to keep watch when he tugged on her arm, drawing her attention back to their objective. There she was—the petite raven-haired woman—walking briskly into the street. She paused for a moment to adjust her purse and then continued down the block.

They immediately began their pursuit, following as discretely as possible. After a few blocks the woman turned a corner down a much quieter street. Kira smiled—quieter was better if they wanted to try to speak to her. Still… they'd need to be cautious on their approach. They didn't want to scare her. They began walking a little more quickly to close the distance, but half a block later she turned again. When they reached the spot where she'd disappeared, they discovered an empty alley.

"What the fuck?" Kira muttered as they went down it. "She must live in around here…"

"No, she doesn't." A harsh female voice cut through the air and their quarry stepped out from behind one of the buildings. She was staring daggers at them. "Who are you and why are you following me? Are you fans or something?"

"No—nothing like that…" As Kira spoke, Knives pulled off his glasses, approaching the woman slowly.

"V-Vash?" She took a small step forward, then realization dawned on her face and she reached into her purse pulling out a pair of derringers with blinding speed. "You—"

But it was too late. Knives had already taken control. Even her mouth was frozen. It had all happened in an instant. The terror in the woman's eyes sent shivers down Kira's spine. She remembered that feeling of abject helplessness, although it seemed like an age had passed since that day.

"Listen to me," Knives said in a commanding voice as he took the guns from her hands, uncocking them, "I'm not here to hurt you. I only wish to speak with you." He handed the guns to Kira. "I will release you in a moment, but you must promise that you won't scream. If you agree to my terms, blink twice."

The woman blinked, as asked, and then fell to the ground when Knives let her go.

"Sorry," Kira said sympathetically. "I promise, he really isn't here to hurt you or anyone else."

"Knives," the woman stated coldly. She was visibly trembling as she slowly got to her feet.

"Yes," he responded.

"But… you're dead. Vash told me so."

"He was wrong."

"What do you want?" She asked, her voice impressively even.

"I need to find him."

"Why?"

"It's no concern of yours," he said dispassionately.

"Oh yes it is! He's my friend. Why should I let you get anywhere near him?" she retorted in a surprising flare of anger.

"Because he is my brother."

"So what? How can you even call yourself his brother after what you put him through?"

"Watch your mouth!" He grabbed a fistful of her jacket and shoved her backward into the wall, holding her firmly in place as she struggled to free herself, her eyes wide with panic.

"Knives!" Kira shouted, fumbling the guns into one hand before running over and slapping his face, hard. "Let her go. Now!"

He narrowed his eyes at Kira but released his grip and took a step back.

"I'm so sorry! Are you okay?" Kira asked worriedly. The woman nodded, catching her breath. Kira turned back to the stoic plant. "You fucking idiot! What the hell was that? We want her help, remember?"

After a moment of internal deliberation he let out a frustrated sigh. "I'm sorry," he ground out, directing his apology to the stunned woman. "I can assure you, I don't want to hurt him—quite the opposite, actually. I need to speak to him." His expression softened. "Please. Do you know where he is?"

The woman eyed Knives in cautious contemplation before exhaling sharply. "Come with me. We can talk somewhere a little more private." She began walking quickly with Kira and Knives trailing just behind her.

"Thank you so much, Ms. Stryfe."

The woman gave Kira a distrustful glance. "Don't thank me yet. I only want to hear more about you. And you may call me Meryl."

x.x.x.x.x

"Juice, water… beer?" Meryl turned from the open fridge to her unexpected guests who were sitting at a small table in the composite kitchen and dining room of her apartment.

"Uh… water is fine, thanks." Kira replied.

"Water," Knives stated coolly.

"Here you go." Meryl set a glass in front of each of them. "So," she said, clearly addressing Kira, "who are you and how did you get wrapped up in all of this?"

"I found him in Delnashville. He was on the verge of death so I brought him back to the waypoint with me. I didn't recognize him and we began travelling together." She shrugged evasively. The woman didn't need to know _all_ of the details… "When I found out who he was it was a shock." A bitter laugh slipped past her lips. "More than a shock. But, I decided to give him a chance. He told me everything, so here I am. Helping, I guess."

"Helping?" Meryl said, dumbfounded.

"Yes." Kira sat up straighter. "I believe what he's told me. I think he has good intentions and deserves to speak to Vash."

"And how can you be sure he isn't here to complete his campaign against us?" she asked slowly, her eyes fixed on the blue-eyed plant who was feigning indifference to the entire conversation.

"I worried about that as well," Kira answered honestly. "All I can say is that I've heard him speak about what happened and I believe he regrets it."

"I'm sure he does," Meryl muttered dryly, drawing a glare from Knives.

"He wants to make amends with his brother, and he's agreed to let Vash decide his fate after that. I think he deserves a chance."

Meryl pursed her lips, a small wrinkle forming between her brows. "Well… I'm sure Vash would say the same thing. He's a great believer in second chances." She took a sip of water and stared absently at the table for a moment before setting her cup down firmly. "Alright. I'll help you. I'm not sure exactly where he is, but I have an idea. And, since I just finished my last assignment, I'm sure I can convince the station manager to let me 'check in' with him. They always love that stuff."

"No!" Knives slammed his fist down. "_You_ are not coming with us." Kira was half-tempted to slap him again. For someone as intelligent as he claimed to be, his social ineptitude was as remarkable as it was exhausting.

Thankfully, Meryl seemed to have overcome her fear of him. She looked away dismissively. "Yes, I believe the more accurate statement is that _you_ are coming with _me_, since I know the location and you don't."

Knives went silent and Kira glanced uneasily between him and the tiny woman as a thick air of tension filled the room. Suddenly, seemingly unprovoked, Meryl began laughing.

"That won't work on me, Knives. After the war your brother trained a few of us how to keep our thoughts protected from the other independents, in case the Federation tried to use us to find him. I've had a lot of practice."

"I could force your mind open, you know," he growled dangerously.

"And risk damaging me? I'm sure Vash would _love_ that…"

"Just tell us where he is and we'll go on our own," he said, his eyes glinting.

"Not a chance! First, I don't trust you. And second, I want to see Vash too."

"You insolent—"

"Thank you Meryl," Kira interjected, cutting off the invective before it could begin. "We appreciate your help," she said with a pointed look at Knives.

"You are most welcome," she said with a smug grin. "Where are you two staying?"

"Oh… we just got in today. We haven't had a chance to rent a room yet, but we'll probably try to find an inn nearby."

"In that case, you're welcome to stay here. I'd actually feel better knowing where _he_ is."

Knives gave Kira a petulant look but she ignored him. "That would be amazing!"

Meryl smiled complacently. "I only have one spare room. I'm using it as an office but there's a futon in there you can sleep on."

"Uh… just one futon?"

"Yeah, sorry."

Kira stared at Knives perplexedly and he rolled his eyes at her unspoken concern. "It's fine. I'll sleep on the floor," he muttered grudgingly. "It can't be worse than sleeping on the sand with that useless blanket."

She smirked at the memory. It had been a satisfying retribution. "You better not complain about it tomorrow."

"I'll complain if I so choose. _You're_ the one who wants stay here…"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Were _you_ planning on paying for the room this time? If so, I'd be happy to accompany you to the inn of your choice."

He responded with a sulking frown. Meryl raised an eyebrow, looking from one to the other curiously, but said nothing.

x.x.x.x.x

Being the generous host that she was, Meryl offered to make them dinner as well. Kira tried to refuse since they'd already imposed so much, but the determined woman insisted. "I need to empty out my fridge anyway since we'll be leaving in another day or so. And please feel free to help yourself to anything while you're here. Honestly, you'll be doing me a favor." She began expertly chopping ingredients, filling pans and stirring things together.

Knives watched her with a countenance of complaint. "We can't leave tomorrow?"

"No," Meryl answered, her voice was laden with false sweetness, "Some of us have normal lives and have to tell people when they're going out of town. Also, we'll have to let my 'camerawoman' know. She's going to come with us."

"No. She isn't," he countered.

"Yes. She is. She's a friend of Vash's too."

"Will she be okay with Knives?" Kira asked. She wasn't eager to involve more people than necessary. "She won't panic and turn him in or something?"

Meryl gave her an encouraging smile. "You can trust her."

x.x.x.x.x

After dinner, Meryl showed them to the guest room, made up the futon and handed them each a pillow and blanket before excusing herself, explaining that she had some work to finish up. Kira gazed at the room. It was fastidiously tidy but still cozy. After several rounds of cards, she climbed under the covers while Knives unfurled his bedroll on the wood floor, capping it with the pillow. He flopped backwards onto it and covered himself with the blanket.

"I don't like this," he said tersely. "I don't trust that woman."

"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear."

"As has she," he shot back.

"She has every right to be wary."

"And I don't?"

"… Knives, you came here because you thought she could help. If you keep antagonizing her you're going to sabotage your own plan. Just… try to be nice… for once."

He frowned and turned to his side with a grunt.

"You comfortable?" she teased.

"Not really."

After a moment of reflection she gestured him over timidly. "Come on. You can sleep up here tonight."

He looked at her apprehensively. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. It's fine. I can't let you sleep on the floor while I have a bed."

She scooted over, making room, and he laid his pillow down and stretched out beside her, draping the blanket over himself again. Kira shut her eyes and tried to distract herself. It had been a while since they'd slept this close, not counting their little charade on the bus when she'd briefly dozed off on his shoulder. Having him so near was simultaneously awkward and comforting—a confusing contradiction that she really didn't want to think about. At least there was more room than in the bedroll, and he had enough sense to keep what distance he could. She sighed and turned away, gradually falling into a deep slumber.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira woke to the smell of coffee the following morning. Knives was still sleeping and she tried not to wake him rising out of bed. She crept down the hallway and into the kitchen to find Meryl sitting at the table reading a newspaper, a steaming mug beside her.

"Oh! You're up early," she said, looking up from her paper in surprise. "Mugs are in the cupboard on the end if you want some coffee."

"That sounds amazing."

"Do you need milk or sugar?"

"Uh, milk would be great."

"It's in the fridge. And again, feel free to help yourself to anything while you're here."

"Thanks." Kira poured a cup and sat down beside the petite woman, sipping the hot beverage carefully. "Um… I just wanted to thank you… for helping Knives."

"I'm not," she said curtly. "I'm helping Vash."

"Well, either way, thanks."

Meryl gave her an inquisitive look. "I still don't get your part in this. You found a stranger and you saved him—which I can understand—but once you learned who he was, why didn't you turn him in?"

"I thought about it, but I was worried about what he'd do if I tried. I decided it would be safer if I dealt with him myself. To be honest, I tried to kill him at first… Well, I pulled a gun on him, but he wouldn't let me fire it."

Meryl grimaced at the memory of being unable to control her own body.

"After that, he told me about his past… explained, sort of… and, as much as he's hurt us, humans have hurt him too. I don't know. I feel like, if I _had_ killed him—if I'd retaliated like that—I wouldn't have been any more justified than he was. I realized that it's surprisingly easy to do the wrong thing for the right reasons. Regardless, I don't want to foster that hatred anymore. I don't think the people I lost would want me to either… If I thought he was going to attack anyone, I'd do whatever was necessary to stop him, but… I guess I trust him—at least enough to help him get to Vash."

"I hope you're right."

The sound of a door opening caught their attention and a sleepy-looking Knives walked into the dining area. Meryl went back to her paper without a word. He sat across from her and yawned.

"Coffee?" Kira asked.

"Yes, thanks." He rested his chin on his palm.

"Milk? Sugar?"

"Black is fine."

She set it in front of him and sat in one of the empty chairs, turning back to Meryl. "How will we be travelling to get to Vash?"

"We can take my car. I need to make some calls and see if he's where I think, but if he is, it'll take us a day to reach him."

"If you give me a list of anything you might need, I can go out and pick it up for you this afternoon."

Meryl looked a little surprised but pleased. "That would be great."

"Will we leave tomorrow?"

"Hopefully. I'm pretty sure I can wrap everything up today. I'll just have to make sure Millie will be ready that soon."

"Is she your camerawoman?"

Meryl smiled. "Yes… And my closest friend."

Knives gave a derisive snort.

"And who's _your_ closest friend?" Meryl asked caustically.

He glanced at Kira and then stared into his coffee, his face flushed.

Kira's gray eyes crinkled at the sight—embarrassment certainly complemented him—but she was rather surprised by the tender affection she now felt stirring in her chest… "Well, I'm excited to meet her," she said, turning back to Meryl, a soft grin dancing over her lips.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira insisted that Knives stay in while she grabbed the items on Meryl's list. "There's too much of a chance someone will recognize you. Just lay low."

So he had. The entire day. He was so antsy it was starting to drive him mad. He'd looked over the shelves in Meryl's office but the few books she owned were not of his taste. He finally settled for listening to music on the radio and playing solitaire. He reached a point in the game where there were no more possible moves and, in a fit of anger, he scattered the cards across the floor.

Damn. Kira would be furious if he lost one.

He meticulously picked them back up and counted them, making sure there were still fifty-two, and then sprawled out on the futon with a defeated groan. He turned to his side and pressed his hand against Kira's pillow. He'd wanted so badly to brush his fingers against her cheek when she lay next to him last night… Fuck. He clenched his hand into a fist and sat up.

He heard the front door open and a voice called out. "Knives?"

She was back.

"… Knives? You still here?"

He found her in the kitchen setting a couple of bags on the table before opening the fridge and peering inside. She closed it and turned, jumping with a small yelp when she saw him. "Fuck! I thought you were gone. Why didn't you answer me?"

"Where would I go?" he asked, raising a brow, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"I don't know. A walk? You startled me, asshole," she groused, despite the small curve on the edge of her lips. "Anyway," she said, looking away sheepishly, her cheeks a charming shade of pink, "can you cook?"

"I've been alive for over a century and a half. Yes, I can cook."

"Perfect. I want you to help me make dinner for Meryl tonight."

He gave her a protesting look.

"Come on! My cooking is terrible. I want to pay her back for that meal yesterday. You can't tell me it didn't taste good."

"It was acceptable."

She stared at him blankly. "Will you help, or not?"

"… Very well." Knives opened the fridge, scouring the available ingredients. "But _I_ will choose the meal."

x.x.x.x.x

The smell of food filled the air when Meryl returned that evening. "What the hell…?"

Knives smirked as her voice echoed into the kitchen.

"Mm, yummy. That smells amazing!"

His smile dropped. The other one was here too? He braced himself for the irritation that was sure to follow as the two women rounded the corner to the kitchen and dining area.

Kira was carrying dishes to the table. "Hey Meryl—welcome home," she greeted brightly, setting the plates down.

The raven-haired woman smiled awkwardly. "Uh… thanks? Um… This is Millie. Millie, this is Kira and… Knives."

The tallest woman Knives had ever seen gave him a wary smile and waved like a child before turning to Kira. "It's a pleasure to meet you both. I'm so excited that you came to town. We've both been missing Vash terribly and now we have a reason to go see him!"

Kira reached out and shook the woman's hand. "Nice to meet you Millie. We're both very grateful for your help finding him."

"It's no trouble. We've had to track him down dozens of times, right Meryl?"

"It certainly feels that way," said the short woman dryly.

Kira laughed. "Well, we'll follow your lead. Here—sit down. Food's almost ready!"

She set the rest of the dishes out and a brought a bowl of salad and plate of sliced bread to the table. Knives walked over carrying bowls of stew and placed them in front of the two women without a word. He grabbed another couple bowls for himself and Kira, sitting down beside her, and began loading his plate.

"You made this?" Meryl asked Kira after swallowing a bite of stew.

"Not really. I cut up a few things, but Knives did most of the work."

He gave the small woman a disdainful look. "You didn't have enough ingredients to make a proper dish, so the only thing I could put together was a stew."

"It's… good," she admitted ruefully.

"It's delicious! Thank you, Knives," said Millie exuberantly.

He didn't respond but he was unable to contain the barest hint of a smile.

x.x.x.x.x

There were no leftovers at the end of the meal. Kira grinned nervously at the woman whose food they'd appropriated, hoping they hadn't overstepped. "You did say you wanted to empty the fridge…"

Meryl nodded. "And I meant it. That was a great meal to go out on." She and Millie hopped up and did the dishes before Kira and Knives had a chance and afterward all four sat at the table.

"So, what's the plan for tomorrow," Kira asked curiously.

"We're ready to go," Meryl answered in her typical brusque manner. "Millie and I will pack tonight and tomorrow morning we'll pick her up and be on our way."

"Speaking of which, I should go home and do that. I know how early you like to start the day," Millie said with a playful poke. After a quick round of goodbyes the giant woman let herself out.

"I should get to it as well," Meryl said with a beleaguered sigh. "You two are on your own. I'd like to be out of here before six so don't stay up too late." She marched down the hallway and Kira could hear the sound of drawers being opened and closed.

x.x.x.x.x

She and Knives returned to the bedroom and played a few rounds of cards before settling in on their respective sides of the futon. The house was quiet as they lay beside each other in the darkness. Meryl must have retired as well. Kira smiled at the thought of the upcoming trip. She was getting really excited to meet Vash. Knives had told her so much about him—he sounded like an amazing person. Plus, he was such a legend—humanity's hero!

She heard a soft exhalation. "Knives?"

He didn't answer.

"Are you awake?"

Silence. She focused her attention inward and, as she had suspected, felt the familiar prickle of his presence, although it was very faint. He was trying to be stealthy.

"You _were_ listening," she exclaimed in exasperation, pushing him out of her mind.

"What does it matter?"

"Dammit, Knives! You can't keep doing that without asking!"

"Of course. I'm sure you'd prefer to think about my brother without an audience."

"I'd prefer to think _all_ of my thoughts without an audience. What if I looked into your mind without your consent? How do you think it would feel?"

He scoffed. "You can't."

"You know what I'm saying. Please. I'm asking you, as a friend, to respect my privacy."

"As a friend…"

"Yes."

"… Fine. I won't read your thoughts without your consent."

"Thank you," she said, annoyed at the relief her small victory brought. Being spied on while thinking shouldn't be a concern in the first place! Fucking telepathy. She wondered if the other plants were rude like that…

"… He's a fool, you know." A low voice disrupted her stream of consciousness.

"Huh?"

"Vash. He's a complete fool."

She grinned. "Are you jealous?"

"Of course not! You were just building him up so greatly in your head—I don't want you to be disappointed."

She had to stifle a laugh. "Thank you, for managing my expectations. Now I'll have a much more realistic image of him in my mind as I drift off to sleep."

He sighed.

"… You do know that I'm teasing, right?"

"Yes… I do. It's just… Never mind. It's nothing."

"You can talk to me, if you want," she said softly.

"… I know," he said, his voice unusually gentle. "It's really nothing."

"Okay. Goodnight."

"… Goodnight."


	15. Chapter 15

The sky was still dark as they loaded their bags and supplies in the trunk of Meryl's car and swung by to pick up Millie. Dawn was just beginning to break when they rolled past the last few building on the edge of the city. They were heading east of Octovern. Knives went through the list of places he knew of that Vash had a connection to in this direction and one glaringly obvious one became lodged in his brain. It was the place he _least_ wanted to visit on this entire planet. He held his tongue, hoping he was wrong. But as they day wore on it became increasingly clear that they were headed right for it.

"The floating ship," he said under his breath.

Kira, who'd been staring out the window, gave him a confused look. "Did you say something?"

"Are we going to the Melca Border ship?" he asked, speaking more clearly and directing his question to the raven-haired driver.

Meryl glanced at him in the rearview mirror and sighed in vexation. "Yes, that's where we're going. Vash should still be there."

"Does he know I'm coming?"

"No. I spoke to Luida and told her that Millie and I would be bringing two crewmembers to do a follow-up segment on Vash. I asked her to detain him if necessary."

"Fantastic," he muttered sarcastically to himself. Vash had spent decades among the people there and Knives had a few run-ins with them as well. Of all the humans on the planet, the ones on the floating ship would be the most likely to recognize him. He'd have to be very, _very_ cautious.

x.x.x.x.x

The suns had almost reached the horizon when the car pulled to a halt next to a decrepit looking building with thick wires extending from it into the clouds. The four passengers grabbed their bags and boarded the small aerial lift inside. Meryl type a code into the console and the lift began moving slowly up the cable.

Kira gasped as the ground dropped away. It felt as though they were floating through the clouds. After several minutes the dense layer of fog opened up to reveal an enormous ship hovering in the sky. She grinned so widely her cheeks began to hurt. "Amazing!"

"I felt the same way the first time I saw it," Meryl said with a smile.

"I _still_ feel like that," said Millie, beaming.

Kira turned to Knives but he was sitting against the wall, his clasped hands resting on his knees, his face hidden by the brim of his hat. She settled down beside him with a small grunt. "How are you doing?" she asked lightly, peering under the hat.

He raised his head very slightly and Kira was surprised by the almost panicked look on his face. "May I speak with you?" he asked, his voice unusually diffident.

She furrowed her brows at the oddness of the situation. "Yeah. Of course…"

"I mean… privately," he explained with a quick glance at the other two women.

Right. Well… at least he asked first. "Go ahead." She felt the familiar prickle but he remained silent. _What is it?_

_What if… what if he won't forgive me? _

A wave of sympathy rolled through her. _Don't worry. He will._

_But what if he doesn't want to see me? Or asks me to leave?_

_From what you've told me, I don't think that'll happen, but if it does, then we'll figure it out._

'_We'll?' _He looked over, his expression softening to something between relieved and hopeful. _Does that mean you would stay with me?_

She was tempted to pull him into a comforting hug but instead gave him a lightly teasing smirk. _Let's just see how it goes before we start worrying over nothing… _

His face fell slightly. _I don't know what I'll do if he doesn't want me around. I hadn't really thought about it until now. But it's a possibility… What if he wants me to turn myself in?_

_He won't. I'm sure Vash will be very happy to see you again. _She nudged her shoulder against his encouragingly. _Just relax. It's going to be fine. And… I promise I won't abandon you—no matter what happens. Okay? I'll stay with you if you need me to._

_Why are… _He let out a slow breath. W_hy are you so kind to me?_ He caught her in a pensive gaze that set her heart pounding. _Do you still hate me?_

She quickly pushed him from her mind. That was _not_ a conversation she was ready to have, especially while he could read her. She gave him a small shrug and an apologetic half-smile.

He nodded faintly, as if understanding that he'd overstepped, a mixture of regret and contrition on his face.

x.x.x.x.x

As the aerial lift pulled into a hangar on the ship, several people walked out onto the platform to receive them. "Let me do the talking," Meryl said quietly.

They walked out of the lift and a slender woman with tightly cropped black hair greeted them. "Meryl, Millie, I'm so happy to see you both again." She embraced each of the women and turned to Knives and Kira.

"These are our assistants, Kira and Alex," Meryl said, introducing them.

The woman extended her hand. "I'm pleased to meet you both. You may call me Luida. I'd like to welcome you to our beautiful city." Kira shook her hand and Knives followed, grasping it for a brief moment and trying to keep his head down. "If you'd please follow me, I'll show you to your rooms."

"Does Vash know we're here?" Meryl asked as they began walking.

Luida let out a throaty laugh. "No. I thought it would be more fun for you to surprise him. Once you're settled I'll take you to him."

x.x.x.x.x

After traversing through a seemingly endless labyrinth of hallways that made up the ship, they were brought to a pair of rooms. Meryl and Millie disappeared into one and Knives and Kira went into the other to drop off their bags. Knives' heart was beating frantically. His fear was now augmented by hopeful anticipation, and the clamoring emotions formed a jumbled knot in his chest. Vash was here. The journey was finally over. He was going to see his brother again. He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, trying to calm himself.

"You okay?" Kira asked gently, walking over to him.

"I'm fine. I'm just ready to see him."

She nodded and turned to the door.

"Kira, wait." He grabbed her wrist and held it loosely. "I just… I want to say thank you—for everything. I couldn't have done this without you, and… I…" He trailed off, realizing that he'd never be able to properly express the depth of his gratitude.

She smiled warmly, her cheeks pink. "Come on. It's time."

x.x.x.x.x

Luida, Meryl and Millie were already waiting in the hallway. "This way," the androgynous woman said, gesturing them to follow her. "I told him I needed to speak with him about a private matter. He should be waiting in his quarters." She led them down a series of hallways before stopping at an unexceptional looking door. Knives' heart was in his throat. "I'll leave you here. I'm sure you'd rather catch up without an audience," she said with a wry grin.

"Thanks. That would be great," Meryl said smoothly. Luida nodded and walked back down the hall. Once she was out of sight, Meryl pressed a buzzer on the wall. The door slid open and a moment later an enthusiastic holler resounded. Vash reached out and pulled the small woman into a crushing hug.

"Insurance girls!" he sang out excitedly. "I can't believe you're here! I didn't think I'd get to see you again so soon!" After a moment he released Meryl and turned to Millie, shaking her from side to side in an energetic hug before Meryl whacked him in the back of the head.

"You nitwit! Number one—we're not insurance girls anymore, as you know perfectly well. And number two—we need to speak with you. Right now. Go inside."

"Ow. Fiiiine," he whimpered rubbing his head gingerly. He glanced over at Kira and Knives and froze.

Knives let out a trembling breath. "Yo. Vash."

"You… you can't be…?"

Meryl growled in exasperation. "Inside! Now!" She shoved him through the door and the others followed, closing it behind them.

Vash had gone white. "What is this?"

Knives stepped forward. "It's me, Vash." He spoke as calmly as he could but his voice was shaking.

"But, you can't be here… You died! I _felt_ you die!" Tears were streaming down the aqua-eyed plant's face.

"I… I'm sorry." Knives pulled off the hat and sunglasses and held them awkwardly at his side. "I shouldn't have left like that. I was… a coward. I couldn't bear to face you." Even now he was too ashamed to look his brother in the eye as he spoke. He felt tears welling up and he did what he could to hold them back. "I'm so sorry Vash. I screwed up. I screwed up so much—for everyone. And you…" He covered his eyes and took a shuddering breath as a tear rolled down his cheek, soon followed by another. "The things I put you through… I was wrong. I was so wrong! And I thought it would be better if I was just gone from this world." Suddenly he felt a pair of arms around him and a small amount of relief swept through him.

"You fucking idiot," Vash choked out. "Don't ever do anything that stupid again."

He let out a weak laugh. "I won't. I promise."

Vash took a step back wiping his eyes. "I still don't understand. What happened to you?"

"I used the last of my energy," Knives answered, wiping his eyes as well, slightly embarrassed by the emotional display.

"Making that tree…?"

"Yes. I thought it would kill me. And it did. But it didn't. I'm not sure exactly what happened but I heard our sisters. They told me to open my eyes, and when I did, I woke up in a bulb in Delnashville."

"Delnashville?"

"Yes. That was maybe six weeks ago? I've been trying to get to you since then."

"But Delnashville is done for! They don't even send water up there. How'd you manage to survive?"

"I almost didn't. Kira found me." Knives looked back and his gray-eyed companion saluted clumsily at Vash. "She saved my life. She brought me here."

Vash walked to Kira, grabbing her in a tight embrace. "Thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Ooookay, ease up or you'll smother her with your gratitude," Meryl said, patting his shoulder lightly.

Vash pulled back, more tears streaming down his face. "Sorry. I just can't believe this is happening."

"I know," the short woman said, surprisingly softly, placing her hand on his back.

Vash wiped his face again and smiled. "What the hell am I doing? Sit down! Relax! This is officially a celebration!"

x.x.x.x.x

They made themselves comfortable around the coffee table in Vash's living room. Knives and Kira shared one of the two couches, with Meryl sitting alone across from them and Millie lounging in one of the chairs on each end. Knives was surprised by how spacious the living quarters were. This must have been a captain's suite at one point. At least the people on the ship knew how to properly honor their 'hero.' Vash ran to the kitchen and grabbed several bottles of liquor, setting them down with a clink, and then went back for some empty glasses. He placed them in front of his guests and took a seat beside Meryl.

"Alright, who's drinking what?"

"Wait," Knives cut in. "There's still more we need to discuss."

"Not tonight. For now, let's just be happy. We're _finally_ together again and I want to enjoy it for at least one day." Knives nodded in acceptance and Vash grinned widely. "Soooo, whiskey?" He poured the equivalent of a shot and handed it to his brother.

Knives eyed it warily. "I don't drink very often."

"I know," Millie said cheerfully, "let's play a game! That always makes it more fun."

"Oh! Never Have I Ever!" Meryl chimed in.

"Perfect!" Vash laughed.

Even Kira looked a little excited to play.

"How does this game work?" Knives asked, suspecting he was the only one who didn't know.

"Well, all you have to do is say 'Never have I ever,' and then say something you've never done," Millie explained in an sunny tone. "Then, if someone else has done it, they have to drink. Like this: Never have I ever been a boy. And now both of you have to drink."

Knives gave the tall woman a skeptical look but knocked back the shot, coughing and grimacing as it burned down his throat. Vash barked out a laugh at his brother's discomfort and took his own shot as if it were water. "I'll grab some beers. We'd all die if we only drank shots during this game." Vash ran to the kitchen and returned with a round for everyone, sitting back down merrily.

"Okay," Meryl began, "never have I ever been a twin."

"If Knives has been dead for a year, are we still technically twins," Vash said before taking a large swig. "Oh! Am I technically the 'older' one now?" he said, his eyes shining eagerly.

"You're certainly still the immature one," muttered Knives.

"You sure you wanna make enemies this early in the game," Vash teased. "Never have I ever…" He tapped his chin and then smiled evilly at his brother. "Never have I ever gotten stuck up in a tree."

Knives blushed and took a drink.

"What?" Kira let out a sharp laugh.

"We were young—probably the equivalent of a five-year-old. I climbed up but… climbing back down seemed so much harder."

"He was so damn cocky going up that thing," Vash said, his eyes crinkled. "Climbed all the way to the top, took one look down and started bawling. Rem had to climb up to get him." Millie giggled and Meryl just shook her head in disbelief. "Okay, Kira, you're up."

"Hm… Never have I ever had my face on a wanted poster."

"Aw, boo." Vash took a swig.

Knives followed suit. "Will I have to drink on every round of this game?"

"Well not this one," Kira said with a smirk. "It's your turn."

"Okay…" He paused for a moment, trying to think of one for the girls. "Never have I ever purchased a bra," he said, feeling a little foolish for his lack of inspiration.

Everyone else drank and Meryl punched Vash in the shoulder. "Who the heck did you buy a bra for?"

He pouted. "Well the shopkeeper was really cute and I thought it'd give me an excuse to talk to her…"

"Ugh. You pig." She scowled, angling her gaze away from him.

"Uh… never have I ever been out in space," Millie said uneasily, clearly trying to move things along.

Both men drank and Vash gave the angry reporter an apologetic look. "Meryl…"

She bristled and turned sharply, her eyes blazing. "Never have I ever been a criminally-flirtatious sex-crazed inhuman gunman with an inability to settled the fuck down."

Vash took a drink. "C'mon… you know it's not really like that. It's just… complicated." The raven-haired woman simply ignored him.

"Never have I ever been an amazing insurance girl and an amazing reporter and the smartest, bravest, and best friend a guy could ask for," he offered, putting on his most placating expression.

Meryl took a small sip and her expression softened. "You're a goofball." She punched him again, lightly.

After several more rounds, Millie insisted they do more shots. Knives was already starting to feel the effects but accepted the shot that was handed to him and tipped it back.

"Um, never have I ever ridden on a sandsteamer," said Kira.

"What? Never?" asked Knives as he took another swig of beer. "Hm… I guess, never have I ever ridden a toma."

"Aw," said Millie taking a sip, "but they're so sweet. Never have I ever… been a plant."

Both men groaned and drank.

Meryl grinned. "We ladies are doing pretty well tonight. Never have I ever used telepathy on someone."

"To be fair, I barely have," complained Vash.

"Oh, whatever," scoffed Knives. "We used to talk that way all the time when we were little."

"Well, if it's guys against girls—never have I ever been human."

After the women had taken a drink, Vash poured a third round of shots. After a quick clinking of glasses they tossed them back. The game soon fell apart into general conversation. Knives was grateful—he didn't think he could keep up that pace much longer. Vash, Meryl and Millie went back and forth, telling stories from when they travelled together. He had to admit, some of the situations they'd gotten into were rather amusing. He found himself laughing out loud more than once.

His head began swimming and he leaned back heavily into the couch cushions. He hadn't been this drunk in a very long time… He noticed that Kira also looked rather askew beside him. She met his eyes and grinned weakly before turning back to the others. "I think I might need a break. I'm feeling a little… drunk," she said with a giggle.

"You can lie down in my room if you need to," Vash offered.

"That would be amazing." She wobbled as she stood and Knives jumped up to steady her. "Uh, thanks," she said awkwardly. He followed her into the room where she stretched out onto the bed with a sigh. "This already feels better. How the hell can they drink like that?"

He chuckled, dimmed the lights and turned to leave.

"Wait. Stay with me for a bit," she mumbled. She patted the mattress and grinned, gesturing him over.

He conceded. He wasn't exactly eager to hurry back to the party anyway. He lay beside her, his arms crossed over his stomach, careful not to encroach.

"Knives… I just want to say that I'm _really_ happy for you. And I'm _so_ glad everything worked out."

"Thanks." He couldn't help but smirk at her effusive and most likely alcohol-induced enthusiasm. Still, he couldn't deny the warmth he felt at her words. "You know… I always enjoy hearing you say my name. I wished I could've told you… when we were… uh… before. Anyway, it's nice to hear it now."

She laughed. "Knives." She reached over and laid her hand on his. "I like saying your name." She moved closer to him, her face snuggled against his shoulder, her arm draped across his chest. "Is this okay?" she murmured. "I just want to lay like this for a second."

His heart beat loudly. "Yes, it's fine."

After several minutes, he could feel her breathing growing softer and slower as she fell asleep. He rested his hand gently on her arm as he struggled to keep his eyes open. Eventually he gave up and let himself sink into comfortable slumber.

x.x.x.x.x

He awoke some time later. It was dark and Kira was still beside him, sleeping peacefully. They were covered with a light blanket, so Vash must have come in, but he couldn't hear any voices from the other room. He climbed slowly out of bed, careful not to wake Kira and walked into the main living area. Vash was stretched out on one of the couches, snoring lightly.

Knives smiled. He never realized how much he'd missed the sound of Vash's snoring. It took him back to the days when they travelled together across the arid planet. They disagreed about so many things back then… Every time he tried to make a move against the humans, Vash would stand against him, fighting for their right to live. It was a never-ending battle, but, at the same time, they could always count on each other to be there when it was important.

Until they couldn't.

Knives was the one who'd broken that bond. He was the one who'd chosen to leave. He'd mutilated his brother and left him chained to a post. He'd abandoned him—the only person he cared about. The one he was trying to protect. The only one who could possibly understand him. He suddenly noticed that the snoring had gone silent and looked up to find his brother watching him.

"Sorry—you looked lost in thought," Vash said quietly.

"You're awake."

"So are you." He sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Ugh. I think my hangover is starting to kick in."

"Same here."

"Want some water?"

Knives nodded.

Vash walked to the kitchen and returned with a couple of glasses.

"Thanks." Knives took the glass and sat down unsure of what to say.

"So, what really happened when you died?" There was a slight edge to his voice. Of course there was. He had every right to feel… well… any way he wanted. Angry. Sad. Happy. All of the above…

"I… I was there, with the boy. I gave him the tree and I could feel the last of my life force flow out of me and then I was just… floating. It was like I was trapped between life and death. I had no senses, no body, but I was still myself. My mind. I just kept thinking and replaying everything that had happened—all of the pain I'd caused and all of my failures. It felt like I was there for an eternity. At one point I actually thought I'd been sent to some kind of hell. Then, out of nowhere, I could hear our sisters speaking to me. They said they'd found me and told me to open my eyes. That was it."

"So, like, some kind of consciousness transference…"

"I have no idea. It could be anything. Maybe whatever wavelength I existed on needed an available bulb, and since most of them were destroyed, it took me awhile to find it. Or maybe I was in Delnashville the whole time and it just took that long for my body to reform…?" He shook his head. "I don't know. The thing I don't get it how I'm alive at all. I thought once our hair went black, that was it."

"Yeah… Can you use your power at all?"

"Just the telepathy, since it doesn't draw energy like the weapons or the blades. But everything's a little weaker than it used to be. Even my physical abilities are weaker. I always thought they were innate—simply a function of our bodies—but I guess the gate affected them as well. My reflexes are slower. I don't heal quite as fast. If it weren't for the telepathic manipulation I'd be defenseless."

Vash winced. "Manipulation?"

Knives looked up guiltily. "It's when you control people's bodies through their minds. But I've barely even used it. And I didn't hurt anyone. I… I haven't hurt anyone…"

"Still. It's wrong, Knives. You don't have the right to do that—to control people."

"I didn't have a fucking choice! Both Meryl and Kira tried to shoot me when they found out who I was. I couldn't let them kill me without seeing you first. I needed to tell you that I was wrong. Now that that's done, I don't care what happens." He let out a heavy sigh. "If I'm killed, so be it…"

"Again! You're going to do that to me again!" Vash was almost speaking at full volume.

"Keep it down, you'll wake Kira."

"Do you have any idea how painful it was to lose you like that? After everything we'd gone through? It was over. We made it out! We both survived and then you fucking gave up!" He was almost in tears.

"I know! I know. And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You can't do that again. Do you understand?" He ran a hand roughly through his hair. "I just… I don't want you to hurt anyone. But you can't let them hurt you either! You can't die again!"

"I don't _want_ to die. I feel like, for the first time ever, I want live—without trying to accomplish some goal or crusade. I just want to live a normal, quiet life. But… it's impossible. They're going to find me at some point—the Federation or whoever—and I doubt they'll even bother sending me to trial. I'll be executed immediately."

"Look, we can worry about the future when it gets here. For now, let's just focus on laying low. How many people know about you?"

"I think it's just you, your girls and Kira."

"That's good. Still, it's probably best if we get out of here as soon as possible. You're pretty infamous on this ship. It's not worth the risk staying here."

Knives nodded.

"So… it seems like you can trust Kira, even if she tried to shoot you…"

He blushed deeply. "Yes. She was shocked when she learned who I was, but… she's a friend."

"A friend? Not a servant or a follower?"

"A friend, Vash," he answered hotly.

"Not a lover? You looked very comfortable together."

"It was the alcohol."

"Bullshit."

"We're not lovers! Okay?" He exhaled sharply, tapping absently on the glass in his hands. "She grew up in Delnashville," he explained. "I destroyed her life. She hates me."

"No she doesn't," Vash said with laugh. "That much is obvious. Look, I don't know what's going on, but that was an unusual amount of cuddling for two people who are just friends. You sure there isn't anything else between you?"

Knives took a sip of water, pondering whether to answer. He'd been dreading this conversation. And his head was really starting to hurt. "I… I slept with her. Before she knew who I was."

Vash's eyebrows shot up. "Ah. I see."

"I'd never been with a human before…"

"Wait, what? Never? Like, for over a century and _never_?"

Knives shot him an irritated glare. "No. We'd been travelling for a while and it just sort of happened. And then she found out who I was…" He shook his head in cynical amusement at the dark comedy that was his relationship with Kira. "She pulled a gun on me, so I stopped her and told her everything—about Tessla and the Big Fall and you—and she actually listened. I know a part of her still hates me for what I've done, but at least she understands why I did it. And… I know things can never be like they were, but she's willing to be my friend, so… we're friends." He couldn't help but smile softly. "I can count on her… We may have had a rough start, but I trust her," he said with resolve.

Vash stared blankly. "Wow. That is… complicated. So… you're in love with her."

Knives made a face. "Love? Who said anything about love?"

"You're friends. You share things with her. You trust her. You want to be with her." He shrugged. "Sounds like the beginnings of love to me."

"But… it can't be. I can't be in love with a human…?"

"Honestly, I never thought I'd see the day. This is your first time, right?"

He didn't respond. He wasn't sure what to say.

"… It's painful, you know."

"What do you mean?"

Vash gave him a sad look. "There's a reason I have an 'inability to settle down.' I know Meryl wants that from me and I really wish I could, but… I don't want to waste her time."

Knives frowned. He hadn't realized his brother was so close to the rude little creature. Also… "I don't understand."

"I did let myself fall in love once, not long after you and I parted ways."

Knives' eyes widened in surprise. "I didn't know." He'd kept tabs on Vash throughout the years, but for the first few decades he'd mostly been preoccupied with his own affairs. How could he have missed something so important…?

Vash smiled wistfully. "We were together for eight years, and it was wonderful, but eventually it fell apart. At first, we thought the strength of our love could overcome the differences between us, but as time passed she realized that I wasn't enough for her."

"_You_ weren't."

He sighed heavily. "We were naïve. Neither of us had been in love before. She was only eighteen when we first met—and I looked about that old—but as the years passed, the physical differences between us started to become more and more apparent. It was difficult for her, having to age without me, and it would only get worse the longer we stayed together. On top of that, we couldn't have children. We tried, but… and I know that after we separated she met someone else and they started a family, so I'm pretty sure it just won't work between species. Honestly, I think she broke it off for me too. I don't know how it would have felt if we'd stayed together for sixty years and I had to watch her grow old and die. It's hard enough losing friends that way, but with someone you love so intimately…"

Knives felt a weight on his chest. "I… I hadn't thought about it."

"Why would you? Until it matters…"

"So what do I do?"

"I wish I knew. I really do. For a long time I tried keeping people at a distance, but… that's hard too. And now, with Meryl… I know she thinks we could make it work, but she doesn't realize how quickly life passes and how much things change. The best way for me to love her is by staying away and letting her move on. It's… difficult… trying to decide how close you want to get. But you'll have to make that choice on your own."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira was still sleeping when Knives returned to the bedroom. He lay next to her and she released an unintelligible murmur, nuzzling closer to him.

Dammit… What should he do? If Vash hadn't been able to make it work with a human, how the hell could _he_ hope to? Did he even want this? Well… he wanted her, but he wasn't sure if he could stand losing her slowly like that. And even if he could, there was very little chance she would reciprocate his feelings.

He brushed his fingers gently through her hair.

Vash was right… He loved her. He truly did.

It was ridiculous. How could he let this happen?

Fuck it. It didn't matter. Now was not the time to be worrying about it. He needed to stay focused on the task at hand—getting off the ship and finding somewhere they could hide out for a while. He could deal with the rest of it later. He closed his eyes and sank into the relaxing warmth she provided.


	16. Chapter 16

The sound of running water roused Knives the following morning. He sat up rubbing his eyes. Kira groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. "I feel like shit," she mumbled crossly.

Knives stared at the doorway across the room from which the water sound was emanating. Vash must be in the shower. He set his legs over the edge of the bed and was immediately struck with a wave of nausea. "Ugh… yeah. This sucks." He forced himself to his feet. "Would you like some water?"

"Please."

He trudged to the kitchen, filled a couple glasses, and returned, handing one to Kira, who'd managed to sit up, although her face was still contorted in a grimace of discomfort.

"Thanks," she said.

They sat together with their backs resting on the adjoining wall, sipping at the water slowly. Knives let out a deep breath. "We're going to get out of here today. The people on this ship are more familiar with my history than the general population and are therefore more likely to recognize me, so the sooner we leave, the better."

"Yeah, that makes sense. Do you have a destination in mind? I mean, is there a place you can live without having to worry about getting caught?"

"I don't know. Vash has a lot of friends, although I can't imagine any of them would be eager to help me."

She smirked. "True."

The water stopped and muffled sounds of motion radiated from the bathroom. The door slid open and a half-dressed Vash stepped through it, his damp hair sticking out in every direction. "Oh! Uh… Good morning. I didn't think you'd be up yet."

Kira's eyes were wide as she stared at the tapestry of scars covering his torso. "What happened to you?" she said softly.

Vash blushed and ran to the dresser, grabbing a shirt and buttoning it quickly.

"I'm sorry—I didn't mean to be rude," she apologized.

"No, it's okay," he said peaceably, a fake smile plastered on his face. "_I'm_ sorry. I shouldn't have surprised you like that."

Knives rolled his eyes. "You don't need to apologize to us. We invaded your room, moron."

"Hey—who are you calling a moron, you jerk! I was just trying to be polite!" They cast simmering glares at each other until a snort from Kira broke the tension.

"Wow, you two really are brothers."

Vash grinned awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry about that. Anyone else wanna use the shower? I figured you guys could get ready here so we can just swing by your room and grab your bags on the way out."

Kira nodded. "Right. Well, I could definitely use a shower… unless you'd like to go first?" she asked, turning to Knives.

"No—go ahead."

Vash and Knives went out to the living room, closing the door behind them and the aqua-eyed plant stretched out on the couch, kicking his legs up on the coffee table. "Whew! It feels so good to be clean!"

Knives sneered, taking a seat across from him. "How nice for you."

"Oh relax, you'll get your shower soon." He began running his fingers through his hair, trying to arrange it into a more acceptable style. Mostly it just flopped forward over his head.

Knives had to smile at his attempts. "So, where are we going to go, once we get out of here?"

"I really don't know. I figured I'd start with the 'getting out of here' part and deal with it after that."

Knives buried his head in his hands. "Great plan. Don't know why I'm surprised."

"Well it's not like I had time to prepare or something! Don't worry. I've had a lot of experience staying hidden from people."

"From what I've heard, you get attacked by bounty hunters all the time, so forgive me if I don't exactly trust in your skills."

Vash pouted. "Mean."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira stepped out of the shower and toweled off before putting her clothes back on. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and shook her head. "What the hell were you thinking?" She'd crossed a line last night. It was one thing to share a bunk; it was another to fall asleep with her arms wrapped around him. The alcohol was definitely a factor, but…

No. She didn't want to investigate any other possible motivations. Even if she could blame her actions entirely on a drunken stupor, she still felt a little guilty for what she'd done.

He was goddamn Millions Knives! Yes, she'd forgiven him, to some extent, but this…? She was fairly certain he still harbored a desire for her, and she'd taken advantage of that fact to cuddle up with him. She had momentarily lost herself in the comfort of a physical connection with him. And… it _had_ been nice. Soothing. Surprisingly alluring… No! She could _not_ feel that way about him. It was unthinkable… wasn't it?

They were friends. Friend_ly._ That was _more_ than enough. It… it had to be… right?

She narrowed her eyes as the uncertainty continued to gnaw at her.

Dammit. Stupid drunk self…

x.x.x.x.x

As she walked out into the living room, Knives rose, making his way to the bathroom and closing the door behind him. She sat down on the couch he'd vacated and leaned back with a sigh, still battling her hangover.

"Hey! Being clean feels great, right?" Vash said cheerfully.

"Huh? Oh… yeah." She smiled weakly.

"So," he said with a wry look, "what are your plans for my brother?"

Kira blanched. "Sorry?"

"I know this is really forward, but I have a feeling things are going to be kinda dicey for a while. I need to know where you stand. What part do you intend to play in this?"

"I've been helping him… I didn't really have an endgame in mind. He said he wanted to speak to you and that you would decide what to do with him, so I'll ask you right back: What are _your_ plans for your brother?"

Vash grinned. "I'm going to try to keep him safe. I'm not quite sure how, yet, but I'll figure it out. There're still a few places we could probably go. And you?"

"I want him to be safe. I'll do whatever I can to help you, but I don't really have experience with this sort of thing."

"Will you be travelling with us if we go into hiding? It's a lonely existence. Not something to be taken lightly."

She frowned. "I… I don't know. I hadn't thought about it…"

He nodded. "Well, until you decide… just… be careful with him." He stared into her eyes, his expression suddenly serious. "Please."

She flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't pretend she didn't understand his meaning. There was too much going on for her to play around with romance. They didn't need that kind of distraction. Maybe it would be best for both of them if she just left.

Where would she even go? Delnashville was done for, but she could start over in Octovern, like she'd planned. Maybe Meryl or Millie could help her find some work. But was that what she wanted—to say goodbye to Knives? It was hard to picture life without him… She didn't want to picture life without him. She wished she could keep following him without a thought to the consequences, but she knew it wasn't that simple.

And it would only grow more complicated the longer they were together…

The door slid open, disrupting her stream of thoughts. Knives walked in, a few drops of water still clinging to his shaggy hair, and sat beside her. "So, are we ready?" he asked, looking at Vash.

The aqua-eyed plant stood. "I gotta throw a couple things in my bag and we can go." He walked into the bedroom and Kira could hear him rummaging through drawers.

She stared at Knives in silence. He toyed with his hands distractedly. Finally, he glanced over at her, but looked away immediately when he found her watching him. "Knives…"

He turned to her, an almost shy hesitation in his manner. "Yes…?"

"… I—"

"Okay! Let's do this!" Vash said, striding over to them with a broad smile.

x.x.x.x.x

With Knives back in his 'disguise' they followed Vash as he led them to their room. She was the tiniest bit disappointed that he wasn't wearing his trademark red coat, but she imagined it would draw too much attention, not that they saw a single soul on their way through the ship. She was glad Meryl and Millie had thought to tell him the room number before they left. He seemed to know his way around really well. When they arrived, Kira typed in the code Luida had given them and the door slid open. She and Knives quickly grabbed their bags. Vash must have told Meryl about the plan the night before because she and Millie were already waiting when they pressed the buzzer.

Without a word, Vash began leading everyone down the hall at a quick pace. They continued through the maze of a ship until he suddenly stopped at a large metal door. He typed in a code and it slid open. They stepped through and found themselves back in the hangar where they'd first arrived. It was empty. No people and no aerial lift.

The aqua-eyed plant ran over to a panel and began typing quickly. "It'll take the lift about twenty minutes to get up here. The folks who run security on the ship know me pretty well," he said with a smile and glanced at a camera on the wall that was pointing down at them. "They usually let me come and go as I please, although occasionally someone will swing by to chat while I'm waiting. If they do, just keep quiet and I'll handle it." He looked up as the motor began humming, pulling the long propulsion cable back up to the ship.

"Vash, stop!" A clear female voice echoed through the hangar. Luida stepped through the door along with two men carrying unusual looking guns. "I can't let you do this."

"Luida!" Vash grinned broadly. "You're right. I should have said goodbye first."

"You can't take him with you. The women are free to leave but you and your brother must stay here."

Fuck. Kira stepped defensively in front of Knives.

Vash looked up sadly. "Please, Luida. I won't let him hurt anyone. Please. Let us go."

She bowed her head. "You know I can't do that. The choice of what to do with him belongs to the people who've suffered because of him. They deserve a trial. They deserve justice."

"Then why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Knives stepped around Kira and strode forward aggressively. "Surely that will be the result of any trial I am subjected to."

"Knives. Dammit! Get back here," Vash growled.

"I cannot say what the result would be. Maybe the people will be lenient." Luida stood her ground as Knives continued to approach. The two men beside her took aim but immediately began cursing in confusion and fear as he commandeered their limbs, forcing them to drop their guns.

"Don't hurt them!" shouted Vash. He ran over, grabbing Knives' arm and wrenching him back, breaking his concentration. The two men fell to the floor.

The blue-eyed plant shook him off. "You idiot! We have to do this if we're going to escape."

"No," Vash grabbed him again and they began grappling as Knives struggled to push him away. "You'll just make things worse!"

_Pfft._ A strange sound cut through the air and the brothers stopped their scuffle.

"What the hell?" Vash mumbled, putting his fingers to the dart sticking from his neck.

Knives turned swiftly to the man with his gun extended. "You're going to regret that," he hissed with unbridled ferocity. The man began screaming as his arm twisted unnaturally behind his back. The other man and Luida were frozen in place, looks of horror on their faces.

"Knives—stop!" Vash threw himself at his brother, knocking him to his knees and breaking his concentration once again. "I'm fine, see! I'm… ugh." He suddenly lost his footing and plummeted forward.

"Vash!" Knives, still on the ground, half-caught the aqua-eyed plant as he fell.

_Pfft._ A second dart flew threw the air, embedding itself in Knives' shoulder. He snarled and set Vash down roughly, turning back to their attackers.

"Knives, please," Vash said weakly, reaching out a hand and grabbing his brother's wrist. "It's over. We lost. Please don't hurt them."

Knives let out a strangled cry of frustration and drove his fist into the ground. He sat there panting for a moment before slumping to the side. Kira's heart constricted at the sight. She began to move forward but Meryl held out an arm in front of her. "It's too late. The best thing you can do right now is to stay in their good graces."

Knives' strength failed and he fell forward. The two men rushed in and began cuffing the brothers, injecting further substances into their arms. Luida watched calmly before walking over to the three women.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she said evenly. "I really hoped it would go differently. I must thank you for the information, Ms. Stryfe. We could not have done this without your help."

Kira whipped around to the petite woman. "You told them about him? How could you?"

"Be quiet!" Meryl said harshly, turning back to Luida. "What are you going to do with Vash?"

"Don't worry. We'll keep him here. The Federation is more interested in his twin. They've agreed to remove the bounty from his head in exchange for Knives."

"Then let us take him before they arrive."

"I can't do that. We need to keep him contained for now. If we release him it's very likely he'd attempt to rescue his brother."

Meryl nodded. "You promise that you won't hurt him?"

Luida looked appalled. "Of course we won't! This is just a precautionary measure. He will be comfortable although likely upset."

"Can we see him?"

"They'll both be unconscious for several hours while we install the cerebral collars."

"Wait—you're putting one of those things on Vash too?"

"What things?" Kira blurted out.

Luida pursed her lips. "They're a defensive mechanism. They'll allow us to interrupt the telepathic and energy manipulation abilities that Vash and Knives possess. It won't harm them—it only prevents them from doing exactly what Knives did here today. The Federation will arrive this evening to transport him to Octovern where he will receive a fair trial. He will be treated like any other prisoner, but in order to do that, we need to be able to control him."

Kira felt a dull ache in her chest. Of course… it was… fair. Horrible and devastating and… fair. Even if a jury was willing understand his motivations, it wouldn't matter. He'd still committed atrocities. He was a criminal—a terrorist. His offences would have been enough to warrant the death penalty even before the Federation enacted its more stringent laws. He wouldn't live through this. Tears began welling up in her eyes and she did her best to hold them back. More men arrived with a pair of stretchers and began loading the unconscious plants onto them.

"You may wait in your room, if you'd like," Luida said, "unless you'd prefer to leave and return to Octovern."

"No," answered Meryl quietly. "I think it would be best if we speak to Vash when he wakes up."

"Very well, I'll escort you back."

Kira picked up Knives' bag along with her own and followed the other women numbly, unsure of what else she could do. Her eyes stayed fixed on him and Vash being strapped to the narrow stretchers as she passed. She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Millie's somber face staring down at her.

x.x.x.x.x

Luida led them quickly back through the labyrinth of hallways and deposited them at their door with curt turn. "I'll return when he's awake."

After a quick nod of acknowledgement, Meryl typed in the code for the door. The three women stepped through it and it slid closed behind them.

It was Millie who spoke first. "What's happening, Meryl?"

"Luida and I made a deal with the Federation. We traded Knives for Vash."

"But why?" The larger girl looked perplexed. "Vash is going to be so sad."

"I… I know. But we had to. Vash doesn't deserve the bounty on him. This way we could get rid of it. And Knives..." Her shoulders drooped slightly from the weight of her choice. "He deserves to be judged."

"You mean killed," Kira hissed. "You just sentenced him to death."

Meryl sighed. "Maybe he deserves that too…"

"And Vash? What does he deserve? You gave him his brother back only to take him away again! Why didn't you just turn him in back in Octovern?"

"We needed him somewhere he couldn't escape from easily. If he started attacking people up here, he'd still have nowhere to go. And we knew Vash wouldn't let the situation get too out of hand. He saved that man's life today—you know he did. If we tried to capture him in Octovern, there would have been bloodshed, and we still might have failed. And… I think seeing how Knives reacted will help Vash understand too—why we can't just let his brother run free. He's too dangerous."

"He only lashed out because you pushed him into it!"

"It doesn't matter!" Meryl's eyes glittered furiously. "This isn't about what happened today—it's about who he is and the choices he's made! He knew what he was doing when he took the plants from us. He knew the death and destruction it would cause. I know you think you can trust him, but_ I'm_ not willing to put people's lives at risk based on your opinions alone. He needs to be judged for his actions, and even if he's allowed to live, we need to be able to monitor him. Can't you understand that?"

"I…" Kira's voice caught in her throat. Of course she could understand _why_ Meryl felt that way, but the situation had become so much more complex than that… to her. Only to her… A month ago she would have supported the raven-haired woman's decision entirely, but now she felt painfully and cruelly betrayed. There was no point in arguing any further—she'd never be able to convince Meryl that she was wrong. It was too late. It was done.

x.x.x.x.x

They waited in uncomfortable and pensive silence for what felt like an eternity before the buzzer finally sounded, startling all three of them. Luida was at the door. She gave them a faint, weary smile. "He's awake but very distraught. He has been restricted to his quarters and was given a mild sedative to calm him. I can take you to him now."

"And Knives?" Kira took a step forward. "Can I see him?"

Luida looked confused. "You want to…?"

"They travelled together," Meryl explained. "She considers him a friend."

"Oh… I see…" She frowned. "I… suppose you could see him briefly. They'll be here for him soon."

"Please," Kira said stiffly.

"Very well, you may follow me. His room is on the way to Vash's."

x.x.x.x.x

There were two guards standing outside of Knives' door when they arrived.

"Here you are. I must warn you, he tried to fight his way out when he regained consciousness, so we were forced to take extreme measures. Also… you should know that your visit will be monitored so please don't do anything that might force us to cut it short. I hope you understand," Luida said, her lips tight.

Kira gritted her teeth but nodded.

The thin woman opened the sliding metal door. Kira walked in and it closed behind her with a soft whoosh. The room was very dimly lit but she could see him lying on a sort of gurney. She turned up the lights and gasped.

Knives had clearly been beaten. There were dark, swollen bruises scattered about his face and his lip was split. He was also tethered to the bed with padded cuffs holding his hands and ankles in place as well as a few straps across his body. So that's what Luida had meant—if she untied him they'd kick her out. His regular clothes had been taken and he was dressed in what looked like an orange prisoner's uniform. She could see an unusual metal device around his throat that could only be the 'collar.' He appeared to be sleeping.

She put a hand on his arm and he woke with a start, trying violently to sit up before falling weakly back against the pillow, held in place by the strap across his chest. He looked at her dully and let out a soft breath. "… You're here," he mumbled, his eyes closing again. He was obviously heavily drugged.

"Yes. I'm here." She put her fingers around his, holding his hand gently, and he tightened his around hers. "Are you okay?"

He half-opened his eyes. "Don't I look okay?" He grinned for a moment then winced with a groan. "Vash…?"

"He's fine. They're keeping him here… and sending you to Octovern."

"I figured… But he's staying here?"

"Yeah. I guess it's a trade. The Federation gets you, and in exchange his bounty is wiped clean."

"Right… That's good… Maybe it's for the best." He closed his eyes again with a resigned smile.

"No!" she choked out. "No, it's not! It isn't fair! I don't want you to go like this! Not after everything!"

He opened his eyes and stared at her solemnly. "Kira… I'm sorry… I wish I could stay with you. You must know that." He exhaled slowly, dropping his gaze. "I… I need to tell you… how much… I… how important…" He trailed off and let out a frustrated huff. "Dammit. You know what I mean," he finished tersely.

She would have laughed if her heart didn't ache so much. She gripped his hand more firmly. "I understand. And I promise I'm going to do whatever I can to save you," she said fiercely, tears pricking her eyes. "I said I wouldn't abandon you and I meant it!"

She reached over with her free hand and cupped his jaw, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb and doing her best not to hurt his battered face. He leaned into her touch, disregarding his injuries entirely, and closed his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh. They remained like that for several minutes as she continued to offer whatever respite she could. She almost thought he had succumbed to the drugs and lost consciousness when suddenly, and with surprising passion, he angled his chin and pressed his lips against her palm. Her heart began pounding, overcome with the conflicting emotions that his pseudo-kiss brought forth.

He nuzzled against her hand for a moment and then raised his eyes to look at her again. "… Could you tell Vash that I'm sorry too? That I didn't mean to leave so soon?"

The sound of the door interrupted their conversation and one of the guards stepped in. "They're here to take him, miss."

Her heart lurched. Already? She just got here! She turned back to Knives. "I'll tell him—of course. And… be strong. Don't give up. We'll be fighting for you!" He nodded and the guard took her arm, leading her out past several Federation soldiers.

Luida was waiting in the hall. "Come with me, I'll take you to the others."

x.x.x.x.x

The trip to Vash's room was a blur. Before she knew it, there was an open door before her. Meryl, Millie and Vash were seated around the coffee table and raised their heads as she walked in dazedly.

"What's wrong," Vash asked quickly.

His question was enough to rouse her from her numbed state, bringing her back to reality and forcing her to face the tempest of emotions whirling inside of her. Kira began sobbing. "They're taking him…" Millie ran over, placing a comforting hand on her back.

"Already?" Vash sounded panicked. "But… But that was so fast! I didn't—that wasn't enough time!" He was crying now too.

Meryl put her arms around him. "It's okay… it's going to be okay…"

Kira felt molten rage burning inside her chest. "Okay? For _you_ maybe! How can you have the nerve to comfort him when this whole thing is your fucking fault?"

Vash sat up stiffly. "What did you say?"

Meryl took a step back, her head down.

"She's the one who told Luida that Knives was coming. They set this whole thing up."

Vash went pale. "Meryl… no… please tell me that's not true."

"Vash…" She was in tears now. "I had to…"

He let out a strangled sob. "No… how could you?"

"I had to! What was I supposed to do? When we tried to leave, you saw what he was capable of. He's dangerous!"

He buried his face in his hands. "Please. Leave… I need to be alone right now."

"Vash, I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Please… Just go."

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering, and walked out the door. Kira and Millie followed silently.

x.x.x.x.x

When they arrived at their rooms, Kira parted from them, going into hers alone. She couldn't stand being near Meryl for another minute. She spent several hours trying to distract herself with cards followed by several more hours trying to sleep, but her mind refused to stop its incessant churning. Eventually, she gave up and decided to walk, making note of the room number as she left. If she got lost, someone could probably direct her back… or she'd just sleep on the floor. She really didn't care at this point.

She aimlessly wandered from hall to hall, up and down flights of stairs, trying to wear herself into exhaustion when she strode through an open doorway and found herself in a beautiful green field. A geoplant… She'd never seen anything like it, outside of Knives' memories. It really was breathtaking. Was this what Earth had been like?

The place was empty, due to the late hour. She wandered through it and lay down on the soft grass. It was so surreal. Everything about today was surreal. Hell—everything that had happened since she'd met Knives had been surreal.

And now he was gone…

She knew it was stupid, but she felt like she'd failed somehow—like she should have been able to protect him. She should have seen it coming. He'd told her he didn't trust Meryl. She should have listened.

She had to do whatever she could to help him. Maybe she could speak in his defense, assuming he actually got a trial. She could at least visit him and try to give him comfort by being there to support him. Or maybe Vash had some ideas on how they could rescue him—he seemed to have experience with this sort of thing. Maybe… It all felt so hopeless.

Kira sighed and stood. She went back out into the empty hallway and started trying to find her way back. After a few wrong turns, she finally came upon her door, typed in the code and went inside, collapsing on the empty bed.


	17. Chapter 17

Kira woke to the sound of the buzzer the next morning… or was it day. She had no idea how long she'd slept. She also had very little desire to get up to receive whoever was calling. She threw the blanket over her head and ignored them. A minute later the person began buzzing with metronomic repetition, making sleep impossible. She growled and rolled out of bed slamming her palm against the button to open the door. Unsurprisingly, Meryl stood in front of her.

"What do you want?" Kira muttered, half-tempted to shut the door in the short woman's face.

"Vash wants to see you."

Kira ran a hand through her hair and sighed, knowing she couldn't refuse. He was going through a lot more than she was right now… "I need to shower. I can meet you over there when I'm done."

"You know the way?"

"I know the number. I'm sure I can figure it out," she said, her tone sharp.

Meryl arched a brow, obviously skeptical of the brash statement, but thankfully had enough sense not to push the gray-eyed girl today. She inclined her head in acceptance and retreated without another word.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira was surprised how much easier it was to find Vash's room after her night of wandering through the halls. She'd gotten a much better sense of the ship's layout. She arrived to find a guard posted beside the door. She hadn't noticed one the previous day. Then again, she'd been pretty oblivious to her surroundings… The man furrowed his brows, casting a distrustful look upon her that she didn't entirely understand, but he let her in without any further trouble.

Millie and Meryl were sitting together on a couch and Vash was slouched in one of the chairs. "Kira!" He hopped up when she entered, his eyes wide. "What happened? I need you to tell me everything."

She shook her head, confused. "Everything…?"

"You went and saw him. Was he awake?"

Oh, right. "Yeah… he was awake. Barely. They must have had him on something but he was conscious."

"And?"

"I told him what happened—that they were exchanging him for you. He seemed… understanding. I don't know…" It was hard to form words as visions of him lying there, his cheek resting against her hand, swam through her head. She let out a short breath, forcing herself to stay focused on the conversation. "He said it might be for the best."

Vash's face fell and a barb of empathy pierced Kira's heart.

"I told him that was bullshit," she said bitterly, before softening her tone. "He asked me to tell you that he's sorry and he didn't mean to leave you so soon."

He sat down heavily, staring off into nothingness.

"So… does that guard out front mean you're supposed to stay in here?" she asked.

He looked up, his eyes still vacant. "Huh? Oh. Yeah."

She sat down in the other chair and looked over at the two women. Millie's face was fixed in an expression of sympathetic concern, while Meryl seemed to be captivated by her hands, clasped in her lap. "And you two are on good terms again?" she asked, her disgusted tone drawing a glare from the raven-haired woman.

Vash exhaled slowly. "Please, don't judge her too harshly. It… it took courage for her to do what she did. Just because we didn't want it to happen, that doesn't mean it was wrong."

Kira let out a soft, incredulous laugh. "Knives was right about you—you are unbelievably forgiving. It's… almost impressive…" She trailed off and shook her head. She knew what he meant. She didn't doubt Meryl's good, possibly even admirable intentions: she had done what she thought was best for the people of No Man's Land. She had put them first, knowing that it would disrupt her friendship with Vash. But Kira's acrimonious feelings were still far too fresh for her to hold much respect for the woman's motives.

Not that it mattered _what_ she thought of Meryl anymore. Once they made it back to Octovern, she'd probably never see her again. Kira was determined to do whatever she could to save Knives and she doubted Meryl would want to be involved. Maybe Millie would though… and honestly, Kira would take any help she could get.

She had no clue what she was going to do. And her strongest ally was trapped on this fucking ship. Although… From some of the stories he and the girls had told the other night, he'd gotten out of stickier situations than this before…

She looked at Vash. "So, do you have a plan?"

"What do you mean?" he asked blankly.

First things first. "How long do they want you to stay?"

He frowned, a wrinkle appearing between his brows. Despite their nearly identical faces, the twins wore such different expressions that it would be hard to mistake one for the other, but in this moment, Vash so resembled his brother that Kira had to look away. "Luida didn't say exactly," he answered slowly. "But she told me that my incarceration here was one of the Federation's terms. They don't want me 'interfering.' I believe that was the word she used."

So they wouldn't just let him go…

Kira eyed Meryl suspiciously. If she heard that he planned to escape, would she betray him to Luida again? No… She had wanted to take him off the ship before. And since he'd forgiven her, it seemed unlikely that she'd risk stabbing him in the back a second time. Her misgivings momentarily steadied, Kira voiced her question to Vash. "Can you escape?"

Meryl let out a huff and opened her mouth, likely with a disapproving comment when Millie put a hand on her friend's arm, silencing her before she spoke.

Vash watched the exchange and sighed, absently rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know. I mean… I could probably fight my way out of this room, but I'd still have to make it off the ship somehow. It'd be tough… and I don't want to risk hurting anyone." He gave her a defeated look.

Kira's breath came faster as her lone hope that the gunman had some secret plan was dashed. "So that's it? You're just going to stay put and accept whatever happens?"

"I… I don't know. I haven't decided what to do yet. I'm still… processing."

Disappointment and frustration swelled inside of her. "Well, if you're staying here, then I need to leave. I told him I'd do what I could to save him and I plan to keep my word!" She stood and began marching angrily to the door.

"Kira—wait!" he barked. "Hang on. Let's just think for a minute…"

"You won't be able to save him—neither of you," said Meryl quietly. "Even if you made it off the ship, you wouldn't stand a chance. He's going to be held under very tight surveillance. Luida told me all about it. If you try anything, they'll arrest you before you get within the city limits."

"So you want us to just sit here and wait it out?" Kira said in disbelief.

"Yes! That's exactly what I want you to do. That's exactly what you _should_ do. Look, I know you care about him, but you must understand—this is so much bigger than you, or him, or Vash, or any of us! This is about our entire planet. This is about moving forward. This is about giving closure to the people who suffered because of him—who lost friends and family members because of him. This is about finding justice for the people who died because of him. They deserve that much at least, and we don't have the right to take it from them."

"I… I know, but…" Memories of her mother, her father and sisters flooded her mind. Of course they deserved justice… but…

"He's come so far," Vash said, his voice thick with emotion. "It just hurts, to see how much he's grown, _finally_, and to have to let it go." A tear rolled down his cheek. "I think… I think Kira knows, like I do, that this trial is the 'right' thing to do, but it's hard to accept. It's like all his progress was for nothing."

Meryl exhaled heavily. "I know. And I'm really sorry—for both of you and for him. But if you want to create a new relationship between humans and plants, then you can't exist outside of the law. If it makes it any easier, Luida told me that she won't allow _either_ of you to leave the ship—you're now officially stuck here as well, Kira."

"Wh-what? She can't do that!" Kira slammed her fist on the arm of the chair.

Meryl gave her a sympathetic look. "Actually she can. Technically, you're being detained for charges of 'aiding and abetting a criminal,' since you knew who Knives was and you smuggled him onto the ship. Honestly, I think your choice to visit him is what tipped the scale. She thought he'd been coercing you and was going to look the other way on your behalf, but when you went to see him of your own volition, she realized it was more than that."

"But, that's ridiculous!"

"I doubt she'll actually follow through with it. She's just using it as an excuse to babysit you for a while. The smoother this trial goes, the better—for everyone. There _is_ still a chance he won't be sentenced to death. He's not human, after all, and he was trying to protect his species. Maybe the people will understand. Either way, they don't want you causing a ruckus trying to rescue him or something."

She almost laughed. They were seriously overestimating her criminal abilities. "So, what? I'm going to be kept in my room too?"

"I believe you'll have free run of the ship—she's not as worried about you escaping as she is of Vash—but you won't be allowed to leave, and they'll be watching you."

"For how long?"

Meryl shrugged. "I don't know. But she'll probably try to keep you here until everything with Knives is settled."

"But… I have to get to him. He shouldn't have to go through this on his own!"

"I'm sorry. His fate is out of your hands now."

x.x.x.x.x

It was dark when Knives stirred. He wasn't sure exactly how long he'd been unconscious. The last thing he remembered was Kira being led out of the room and one of the men in uniform injecting something into his arm. He tried to push himself up and was only mildly surprised to find his wrists cuffed behind his back. He sighed and glanced around his new surroundings, trying to make out what he could in the dim light.

Metal walls, metal floor, and a latrine and sink in the corner… Yes. This was his cell. He was sitting on a thin mattress, set on a narrow platform that extended from the wall. There was a pillow and a folded blanket at the head of it.

"Millions Knives. I see you've finally awoken." A cold, female voice resonated from a speaker in the wall. "I'm coming in to see you and suggest you be on your best behavior."

A minute later he heard the grating sound of what could only be a large lever being turned. The door groaned open and a tall, slender figure—likely the owner of the voice—stood, silhouetted in the doorway. She touched something on the wall outside the cell and the lights brightened, revealing his captor. She was… stunning. Beautiful. Blond. And…

"A plant?" he asked curiously, standing and approaching her cautiously. They'd done something to contain his telepathic ability, but even without it he could feel an unusual energy radiating from the woman. He'd only felt that kind of aura in the presence of his brother or the angels.

"My name is Chronica. My superiors thought it would be best if the first person to see you was one of your own kind."

He smirked. "They think I'll be less likely to attack you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "No, we're entirely aware of your disrespect for all the members of the Federation, regardless of their species."

"Then why?"

"Because I can 'feel' your energy. We need to know how dangerous you are… and from what I can tell you're not dangerous at all, anymore," she said with a chilling smile.

"Where am I?"

"You are in the brig of the Cassiopeia—Captain Garrow's ship. He thought it would be the most convenient location to hold while you are being questioned."

'Questioned.' It was such an innocent word… He swiftly suppressed the tremor of fear it inspired. "And why did they choose you to greet me—Chronica, was it?"

"I volunteered. None of the other independents were eager to be stuck in a room with you. It seems you've not only alienated your creators, you've alienated your own kind as well… what a pity."

"And why were you so 'eager' to meet me?"

"You killed my friend. I want to know why."

"I killed many people. I was trying to save my sisters."

A dazzlingly fast kick hit him in the stomach and he crumpled to the floor. "She _was_ your sister!" He gasped for breath before slowly climbing back to his feet. "You used her—you _destroyed_ her—to get to us."

The other plant. Yes, he remembered. He'd absorbed her, but since she was independent, she hadn't been able to merge like the angels. Her individual consciousness had been shattered. "I had to. I needed to stop the fleet. I sacrificed her for the others."

She landed a staggering punch on his already bruised cheek and he tasted copper. "You 'sacrificed' her for nothing! You failed! Half of your sisters died because you ripped them from the safety of their bulbs. You didn't _save_ them—you murdered them, along with all the humans who relied on them. The time has come for you to pay the price for your actions."

He closed his eyes, waiting for her next blow but to his surprise, she walked around him and lifted his hands, removing the cuffs.

"Understand that this freedom is a luxury," she said, her voice eerily calm, "Do not abuse it or it will be rescinded."

With that, she strode out of the room, leaving him in isolation. Knives made his way to the sink in the corner and turned on the water, sipping some from his hands and swishing it to clean the blood from his mouth before spitting back in the basin. With that done, he gingerly climbed onto the bed and laid down, spreading the blanket over himself and trying to ignore the various aches coming from his face and body. That had actually gone better than he expected. Maybe this wouldn't be as painful as he thought. If they actually treated him like a normal prisoner, then it might not be so bad, even if he was executed. If he was going to be killed anyway, he preferred not to be tortured first…

Of course, if he were killed he'd never see Vash or Kira again.

No. Kira had promised to save him, and she hadn't let him down yet. And Vash was a master of getting out of tough situations, even if it was usually his own fault for getting into them in the first place. He had to have faith in them. They'd come for him.


	18. Chapter 18

Time passed slowly aboard the floating ship. For the first few weeks, Kira searched obstinately for a way to escape, but after repeated failures and a near-fatal experience when she had been exploring the exterior of the ship, trying to find an alternate way down, and had almost been blown off of one of the narrow walkways, she finally gave up and accepted her internment.

She'd been trapped here for nearly two months now. At least her captors had enough courtesy to provide her with food while she stayed, but the never-ending quest of finding activities to occupy her was driving her mad. She spent most of her time alone, often reading in the ship's vast library.

Meryl and Millie returned to Octovern a week after Knives had been taken. They stayed as long as they could to console their devastated friend, but had soon been called back to work. Apparently, their station manager was furious when Meryl told him that she wouldn't be able to get any footage of Vash after all. At least she had some decency. Despite her continued bitterness toward the raven-haired reporter, Kira was sad to see the two women go.

She visited Vash frequently and was grateful she still had his company, since he was the one person who truly understood what she was going through. They grew quite close in their time trapped together. The only problem was that he was very well known and well liked.

He often had guests over, but, like the guard who was _still_ wary of her, they were suspicious and hesitant to interact with the woman who'd helped the villainous Knives. Even the ones who deigned to speak with her were cautious. Not that she minded—she'd rather entertain herself than be forced to sit through prattling conversations about the ship's gossip anyway. Vash repeatedly tried to bridge the gap and introduce her to new 'friends,' but it rarely went well. Even so, there were a few people she could stand.

Strangely enough, the man she was most comfortable with, other than Vash, was a member of the Federation. After the war, Panse had been assigned as an ambassador on the floating ship, since he'd already developed a relationship with its inhabitants. Kira suspected that the man's ability to understand and relate to people from all different walks of life was what allowed him to sympathize with her more than most of the people on the ship. Also, he'd been affected less directly by Knives' actions, so he didn't have such a personal interest in seeing him punished. Panse was one of the few she felt she could actually converse with, without having to keep her guard up.

She also didn't mind Brad, although his bubbly girlfriend, Jessica, was the worst combination of irritating and energetic. Like everyone else, neither of them was particularly eager to warm up to her, but she'd been adamant in trying to win the mechanic over because Vash thought he'd be the most likely person to smuggle them off the ship. Unfortunately, Brad had already been warned by Luida that such an offense would be severely reprimanded, so the probability that he would help them was low.

Vash had called Kira down today, which probably meant he was alone. At least she hoped so. He had been pushing her to socialize less and less these days, and although she generally catered to his whims on the matter, she really wasn't in the mood…

The guard outside typed in the code for the door, his demeanor gruff as always. Kira stepped into the room and was surprised to find Luida sitting with the aqua-eyed plant. She tipped her head in greeting, her eternally calm expression giving nothing away. Kira narrowed her eyes at the woman who still refused to let her leave the ship. "What do you want?"

Luida tightened her lips. "I have news for you—both of you."

Kira scowled. She was always trying to get updates but nobody ever seemed to know what the hell was going on with Knives. The last she'd heard, he was in isolation at the criminal facility in Octovern and they were hoping to start proceedings as soon as possible, but that was over a month ago. She knew these sorts of legal battles took time, but she had assumed they'd try to rush into it with such an open-and-shut case. "He's going to trial now?"

"Please, join us." Luida gestured to an empty chair.

Kira rolled her eyes and took a seat.

The older woman took a preparatory breath. "I was just informed that the situation with Knives is… is finished."

"… Finished?" Vash gave Luida a puzzled look. "You mean the trial? What did they decide?"

"I mean… everything. Apparently the judgment happened very quickly. He was found guilty and sentenced to death."

Kira's heart stopped. Surely she couldn't mean… "That's impossible," she half-whispered.

"He was executed this morning. I'm very sorry."

"No!" Kira growled fiercely. Vash simply sat in silence, his eyes blank.

"I… understand your anger. I… I am truly sorry for your loss."

"Luida… can you please leave us?" Vash said softly.

"Of course. If you need anything, please let me know." She rose quietly, giving them privacy to mourn.

Kira buried her face in her hands, tears flowing down her cheeks. She felt a hand rubbing her back gently. "I'm sorry Vash," she murmured. "I know this is worse for you than it is for me…" She sniffed and wiped her eyes.

"I… I'm not so sure…"

She raised her head, confused.

"When he died the first time, I felt it. Like… _really_ felt it. It was… painful. It was like my soul had been ripped in half—like a part of myself was just… gone. When he came back, I could feel the connection again, long before you came to the ship. I thought I was just imagining things—deluding myself—but then he showed up and I knew it was him I'd been sensing. It's had to explain, but… I can still feel him right now. Or… I don't feel the _lack_ of him."

"You mean…"

He looked up, his aqua eyes glinting. "I don't think he's dead."

"… But then… why?"

"I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I _am_ delusional. But I have to make sure. Assuming they let us go, do you want to come with me?"

"Yes! Of course!"

He smiled. "Okay—but we'll need to be patient. I don't want them to get suspicious if we try to make a move too quickly. Besides, I need to take care of a few things before we go—starting with this fucking collar." He made a face, tapping the metal device.

Kira grinned. He'd been trying to get the doctor to remove it since it had been put on. The doc had explained that it only worked if he actually tried to use his abilities and that it wouldn't cause him any harm, to which he'd replied that he _never_ used his abilities and sleeping in a metal collar was extremely uncomfortable. They had gone back and forth for about twenty minutes before Vash finally gave up and accepted that he'd just have to deal with the 'safety measure.'

"Just let me know if there's anything you need me to do," she said. "I'll be waiting."

He grabbed her hand a squeezed it. "Won't be long."

x.x.x.x.x

He was tired. So tired.

He'd been strapped to the cold metal table while they dug into his arm. They wanted to examine his gate, one of the technicians had explained. So they had. They'd cut him apart and attached a series of monitors, not that he felt any of it. He'd been put under such a heavy cocktail of drugs that they could have stabbed him through the chest and he wouldn't have felt a thing.

They had quickly decided that simply prodding his arm wasn't enough. They needed to activate the gate directly. He had explained that he could no longer power it—that he'd used all of his energy up—but they assured him that they had an alternate method. They'd connected him to a series of diodes and turned a dial.

He could feel everything now—it didn't matter how much they drugged him. A piercing, white-hot pain shot from his arm through every nerve in his body as the gate responded to the pulsing stream of energy. He'd cried out at first, begging for them to stop, but they'd simply gagged him. They'd been at it for hours, performing test after test, gradually increasing the amount of energy they shot into his arm each time and notating the feedback results.

Over and over, the piercing pain shot through him, always a little worse than before. Tears streamed down his temples and all he could do was clench his jaw on the damn gag and try to cope until they turned the machine off again, giving him a brief period rest. He wouldn't last much longer. He could feel his body shutting down from exhaustion. His vision began to blur as the energy tore through him and he slipped into darkness.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives woke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, his arm aching. To his relief, he was back in his cell at the criminal facility. He sat up and looked around dazedly, still gripped by fatigue. There was a tray of food and a cup of water on the floor nearby. He crawled over to them and began eating slowly…

When he had first arrived, most of his time was spent being interrogated. Each day, he was brought to a small room where Chronica, and a few military officers waited. He was strapped to a chair and given a drug to dull his senses. Once it took effect, Chronica would begin drawing information out of him—or rather ripping it out.

She poured through his mind while asking him questions in an attempt to pull up the memories she wanted. Anytime she found something interesting she'd continue pursuing it until she was satisfied and then report her findings to the officers. Although the collar prevented him from reaching out telepathically, he still retained control inside his own mind. He tried to fight against her, to restrict what she had access to, but the drug left him exposed. She sifted through everything that related to the war—his planning, strategy, motivation, and the guilt he now felt. It was humiliating being forced to share his most private and painful moments with such a vindictive audience.

At least she had cried when she saw what happened to Tessla. That memory had been strong enough to stop her from trying to pull anything else from him for the rest of the day.

After learning about his mysterious near-death experience she moved on to his current plans. She searched for any intention to build a militia or retaliate against the Federation or the humans but seemed satisfied that he'd given up the fight. Unfortunately that line of questioning led her to Kira. She breezed through his 'first time' with a mocking smile, though it faded when she saw his later memories of the gray-eyed girl. Mercifully, she didn't reveal much to the other officers in the room beyond Kira's name, occupation, and that he had lied about his identity to travel with her. She must have realized the girl was just an innocent bystander and not a threat. Still, he was grateful.

After about two weeks, she seemed to have learned everything she wanted to know. She told him that they were satisfied that he was not an immediate danger to the humans or the Federation and they would proceed with a trial forthwith. She said she hoped he got the sentence he deserved.

Those were her last words to him. He hadn't seen her since.

Not long after, he'd been transferred to his new cell. His accommodations at the criminal facility were much less 'luxurious' than on the Cassiopeia. His thin mattress on a platform was replaced with an even thinner pallet on the floor. His blanket was nearly threadbare and they seemed to think he didn't require a pillow. They kept him in isolation, as they had done during his interrogation. He was actually grateful for that aspect of his incarceration. At least he wasn't forced to interact with any other prisoners.

Once he had settled in, the small group of masked technicians he quickly became familiar with began a new activity—testing him. He suspected that this was the reason Chronica had been sent away. He doubted even someone as unsympathetic as her could accept seeing one of her kind treated like a lab rat. They began with mental and psychological testing. It was tedious more than anything, but they soon moved on to the physical tests. They took samples of various tissues and fluids —a process they inexplicably repeated every couple of weeks—and measured his normal bodily functions, both in action and at rest.

And then they began testing his regenerative abilities. That was when the pain had started. For weeks they'd stabbed him, burned him, poisoned him, and snapped a couple fingers. Afterwards they'd mend him and measure how quickly he healed.

He had remained relatively docile up to that point since the collar left him defenseless. Without his telepathy, he was no better than a human and his chances of breaking out on his own were slim. He knew it would be foolish to try it. As long as they treated him well, he was willing to be compliant in the hope that Vash and Kira would find some way to rescue him. But once the regeneration tests began, he became… impatient.

The first time he tried to escape, rushing out his cell door when they opened it, he'd made it halfway down the hall before the guards intercepted him. He'd taken one of them out, for good… They'd forced him to live in handcuffs after that, but he'd sprinted again. After the second time, they cuffed both his wrists and ankles before taking him to the lab. On top of that, the captain had a set of manacles installed in his cell, with a long chain attaching them to the floor beside his pallet, giving him just enough distance to get to the latrine and sink. The solution was a bit medieval, but it certainly kept him contained.

He hadn't had an opportunity to try anything since then. They continued their tests, and he continued to suffer. Still… it was nothing compared to the 'gate' test. If it got worse than that, he wasn't sure how long he'd survive.

The chain dangling from his wrist clinked softly as Knives continued putting handfuls of food into his mouth. He stared down at his crudely bandaged left arm—the one they'd cut open. At least they'd been considerate enough not to cuff it…

The sound of a grating door drew his attention and a broad-shouldered, clean-shaven man in uniform stepped into the cell. Knives smiled coldly from his seat on the floor. "Captain Garrow, a pleasure, as always."

The captain, a well-respected and highly experienced veteran within the fleet, had been in charge of overseeing Knives from the beginning. He'd been present during Chronica's investigation and had managed his transfer to the new facility. He was the only one who spoke to Knives these days, since the technicians mostly ignored him and the guards were always silent. The captain frequently showed up in the lab to watch the various 'tests,' but occasionally he'd stop by the cell to deliver one form of torment or another.

Garrow was ruthless. He was the worst kind of human. He seemed to find a great deal of entertainment in beating Knives down—both mentally and physically—and the plant suspected it was because he refused to be defeated. He would never let a repulsive parasite like Garrow break him.

The man's eyes crinkled. "I'm glad to see you're in such high spirits. From what I heard they had to drag you back here 'cause you fainted like a little girl. But it looks like you recovered. Should I call 'em back?"

"And disrupt our conversation? What a disappointment that would be…"

"You're right. I do have some news you might find interesting. You died today."

Knives frowned. Had his heart stopped when he lost consciousness?

"Oh, I'm sorry," the captain sneered, "Maybe I was unclear. You were 'executed' today. We've notified the papers and the No Man's Land government. Hell—almost all of our own crew believe it too. I thought it'd be easier to keep working with you if you were gone to the rest of the world."

"But… what about the trial?"

"I convinced the admiral it would be safer for everyone if you were tried in absentia. You gave your 'consent,' of course. Chronica's testimony was quite spirited. Honestly, the case was pretty much over by the time she was done," he said with a coarse chuckle. "Anyway, you were found guilty and sentenced to death. You'd be surprised how easy it is to fake an execution, especially on this backwater planet. A few bribes to the right people, and here we are."

"Of course…" Vash wasn't coming. Kira wasn't coming. He was alone.

He had a rough idea of why the techs wanted him—Garrow had explained it early on, although he kept quiet about his own motivations. He and Vash were the last of the first generation independents. Once the humans had learned about the power independent plants possessed, future generations were genetically modified in the fetal stage to limit their abilities so they wouldn't become a threat. According to Garrow, all the other first gens had already burnt themselves out or had been sacrificed for research like Tessla.

On top of that, he and Vash were the only twins that had been produced so far and Knives was the only plant who had survived the hair darkening effect, since Vash still had a few strands of gold. The techs hypothesized that Knives' continued survival had something to do with being a twin. If the brothers' energy was somehow linked, then maybe the small amount that Vash retained was enough to sustain both of their lives.

Regardless, they wanted to learn everything they could about him, the anomaly, and now they could take their time. They had no one to answer to. They could do what they wanted… for as long as they wanted. He had to try something.

He leapt forward to the end of his chain and reached out with his bandaged arm, wrapping it around the captain's legs, gritting his teeth against the pain, and throwing his shoulder into the man's groin, knocking him off balance. The man fell backward with a grunt. In a surprising display of reflexes, he responded with a swift knee to Knives' jaw that knocked the plant off of him.

Garrow scrambled backwards before getting to his feet, laughing. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You know you're cornered, so all you can do is attack." He aimed a hard kick at Knives, who instinctively raised his free arm to block it. Shooting pain radiated from where the foot hit, causing him to cry out.

The large man's lips spread in a toothy grin. "You should be more aware of your situation before you start something like this again," he said, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. He darted in, grabbing Knives' uncuffed wrist and yanking him toward the door so his arms were stretched wide before sending a brutal kick to the plant's stomach.

Knives fell to the ground, retching. The captain gave one final kick to the injured arm and laughed, stepping back out of reach. "Take care of yourself. You've got another big day tomorrow."

The heavy door groaned shut. Knives made his way back to his pallet and collapsed, trying to focus on anything but the relentless throbbing in his arm. His bandaging was now soaked in blood. He wondered if they'd even bothered to stitch the wound closed since they'd likely open it again in the morning.

Endless days of torture—that was his future. That was his punishment. He'd have to undergo ceaseless tests until his body finally gave out, just like Tessla's. This was his greatest fear, come to life. He shivered, and pulled his thin blanket around his shoulders. How he wished he could see Kira and Vash one more time…

No. He _would_ see them. He had to stay strong. The Federation hadn't killed him, so maybe he could still find a way to escape, though it might take some time. He would have to be patient. He would have to endure…

He was just so tired.


	19. Chapter 19

Kira spent the next handful of days in her room, waiting for Vash to retrieve her. And waiting. And waiting… She was itching to go in search of him and drag him off the damn ship, but forced herself to be patient like she'd promised. When he finally did show up with a bag slung over his shoulder and no collar around his neck, he immediately plastered his 'guilty but sorry' grin on his face.

"What took you so long?" she said with a scowl.

He pouted. "I went as fast as I could, but the doc was really busy, so it took forever to get the collar off. And there are a lot of people I have to say goodbye to! They get pissed when I take off without letting them know…"

She sighed. "Fine." They _were_ trying to be discreet. It was best if he acted as normal as possible.

"You ready?" he asked, his eyebrows lifting in question.

Her bag had been packed and sitting by the door since the day they'd spoken. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

x.x.x.x.x

She half expected someone to stop them on their way out, but when they entered the hangar it was empty. They boarded the lift and Vash typed a code into the panel onboard. The doors slid shut and they began moving slowly away from the ship.

Kira exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Didn't think we'd make it out?" Vash said with a grin.

"I guess. It's weird, being kept somewhere like that."

"I really wish you could've met everyone under different circumstances. They really are nice people. It's just… they have a complicated history with Knives."

"Doesn't everyone?" Kira stared out the window listlessly.

"Yeah." Vash smiled sadly. "You know, I never really told you how grateful I am that you were able to forgive him."

"Oh, uh… yeah," she muttered uncomfortably. "Well, when you get to look in someone's head and see their memories, it's hard _not_ to sympathize a bit…" It was more than that. She knew it. Vash knew it. Yes, having the chance to experience what Knives had gone through allowed her to understand his motivations better, but it was the time she spent talking with, travelling with, and getting to know him that had softened her enough to be able to forgive him.

And having a past with him had been a factor. She was so taken with him back then… It was hard to divest herself of those feelings entirely.

Vash stared at her mutely as she continued to ponder over her answer. Early on, he admitted that Knives had 'told him some things' the night before he was taken, which she assumed meant Vash knew they'd slept together. Thankfully he hadn't addressed it further or forced her to. She wasn't entirely sure what she felt for the blue-eyed plant now, beyond obvious concern and a desire to get him out of the Federation's clutches. She just wanted him to be safe.

She exhaled sharply, her mind returning to Vash's statement. Forgiveness… "I've done things. I killed to protect the people I cared about. Who am I to judge?" She looked down at her feet.

He nodded thoughtfully. "It took me a long time to forgive him. I don't think I really did until he was gone. But even before that I could never fully blame him for the things he did. Our world fell apart when we found Tessla. I was just lucky that Rem forced me to deal with it, while Knives buried it all inside. In some ways, the things he did were my fault—for not confronting him when I first noticed him acting strangely."

"What do you mean?"

"He closed himself off and pretended like everything was fine. But there were a few times I noticed he was… different. I should have made more of an effort to connect with him. He didn't know how to deal with his fear and anger alone so he lashed out. Once he'd taken that first step he couldn't turn back. If he did, he'd have to come to terms with all of the people he'd murdered. I don't think he's ready for that guilt, even now. So he stuck with his plan—to destroy the humans to save the plants. It was sad, really."

Kira frowned. "You don't think he feels bad for what he did."

"I'm sure he does for some of it, but I don't think it's even possible to comprehend the magnitude of everything he's done. I think he feels guilty for what he did to me, and what he did to you and your family. I'm sure he feels guilty about the angels who died. But I wonder how broadly he feels it for the humans."

"… Right…"

"Oh!" Vash gave her a sudden guilty look. "But I do think he's come a long way! He could've killed Luida and those two guys who shot us, but he didn't. And his friendship with you is something I didn't think he was capable of before!"

She smiled, thinking back on how wary and dismissive Knives had been towards her when they first met. He must have hated being forced to travel with a human. Even from her short time with him, she could see how much he'd changed… "God, I hope he's okay."

Vash put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her into a light, one-armed hug. "We'll find him and he'll be okay."

She nodded and stared out the window at the slowly approaching ground when the glint of metal caught her eye. "What is that…? Is that a car?"

"Oh… uh… yeah. I should probably tell you… We're getting a lift back to Octovern."

"From who?" Kira asked, suspecting that she knew the answer and a little annoyed he hadn't mentioned it sooner.

Vash grinned sheepishly. "Well you know… we're friends… and what she did wasn't exactly wrong…"

She growled at his weak attempt to mollify her. "Have you told her anything?" She still didn't trust the woman.

"No. Well… yeah. But not all of it… But I'm going to." He took on the serious tone that he saved for matters of extreme importance. "She's getting us in to see the angels today and she probably has connections with people in the Federation since she'd been reporting on them. We need her help. And she's my friend. I promise, we can trust her with this."

Kira sighed in defeat. "I hope you're right."

x.x.x.x.x

Meryl was waiting in the empty building when the lift finally came to a halt. She gave Vash a hug when he exited and nodded to Kira, who simply ignored her. "Nice to see you too…" the petite woman muttered.

They threw their belongings into the trunk of her car and headed into the desert, leaving the fog-cloaked ship behind. Vash sat in the front, catching Meryl up on the various pieces of news they'd heard as well as his speculations about his brother. Kira sat in the back, her head resting against the windowpane, watching the beige landscape roll by and half-listening to their conversation.

"So, what's the plan?" Meryl asked softly. "Do you have one?"

"Not yet. I want to speak with my sisters in the dome first. They should be able to tell me definitively whether he's alive."

"Right… Do you really think he is—that they're lying about the execution?"

"I don't know. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but it doesn't _feel_ like it did last time. I need to be sure."

The raven-haired woman pursed her lips. "I honestly don't know if I'd prefer you to be right or wrong. I mean, I'd be happy if you're right, but that means that someone in the Federation staged this whole thing. It's a scary thought. Why would they do that?"

Vash grimaced. "I'm not sure. Honestly, I'd rather not think about it yet. Maybe I'm wrong…"

Meryl nodded. "Well, we should be able to make it to the bulb by this evening. I have a friend there who's expecting us."

"Thanks, Meryl."

x.x.x.x.x

The sky was painted with dusky oranges and violets when the car finally came to halt outside of the enormous oblong glass sphere. Kira, who had been dozing, sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Here we are," said Meryl lightly. "Let me do the talking."

They followed her through a large metal door into a clinical-looking lobby where a grim-faced man sat behind a desk, eyeing them suspiciously. They must not get many visitors here…

"Can I help you?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Yes, please. My name's Meryl Stryfe. I'm here to see Ms. Robins."

The man picked up a phone at his desk and dialed slowly. He tapped his fingers and continued to watch them through a narrowed gaze as he waited for someone to answer. "… Hi. There's a Ms. Stryfe here to see you… Yeah… Okay, I'll let her know." He hung up stiffly. "She'll be here shortly. You may have a seat while you wait."

They sat quietly in the small seating area. Kira leafed through a newspaper on the table, but was too anxious to read a word. Thankfully they didn't have to wait long. The door at the end of the hall opened and a frazzled-looking redhead trotted in.

"Meryl, I'm so glad you made it!" She reached out a hand and Meryl shook it, grinning.

"It's so good to see you Ellie! It's been too long. I'd like to introduce you to—"

"Vash the Stampede, right?" Ellie was beaming as she shook his hand. "Well you certainly look just like your picture—red coat and everything. And you are…?"

"My name is Kira Derinau. It's very nice to meet you."

The woman shook her hand warmly. "The pleasure's all mine," she replied before turning back to Meryl. "Now, I'm actually in a bit of a rush—things are crazy around here right now. Would you mind following me into the chamber?"

"Oh… uh… of course not," Meryl stammered.

"Magnificent." Ellie turned and they followed her as she went through the door and began trotting down a long hallway with several doors on either side. "These are the labs. We're on the verge of completing a solar powered coupling for the matter generators to help offload some of the stress on the angels, so this is where a lot of the testing is occurring. If we're successful there may be a possibility of terraforming in the future."

Vash perked up at that. "Terraforming? But wouldn't that put a huge amount strain on the plants?"

The redhead nodded. "Yes, but it's a complicated matter. Although it would be more difficult on them in the short term, it would reduce the load, long term. The problem is that we still need to see _how much_ of a short-term effort it would be. The Federation is overseeing everything, of course. They've done this before and have a much better idea of how to go about it. I know our situation on No Man's Land is very dire, since we lost so many angels and we've been draining their energy for so long, but the Federation has mentioned providing an additional energy source, so it may still be possible. We'll just have to see."

Ellie pushed open a large gray door and they stepped into one of the most amazing rooms Kira had ever seen. The gigantic glass bulb ballooned out of it, but despite the large amount of sunlight pouring in, the room was surprisingly cool. There were more computers lining the walls than Kira had seen in her life. It probably took a lot of effort to keep the atmospheric conditions inside the bulb properly balanced for the plants.

"Now," said Ellie officiously, "Meryl has told me that you would like to speak to your sisters, and I insist on being allowed to watch."

Vash grinned, his cheeks going pink. "Um, yeah, that's no problem. It'll probably be a lot more boring than you're expecting. And thanks so much for letting me do this."

She shook her head, her red curls bouncing. "Not at all—none of this would be here if it wasn't for you. We are all very grateful."

She gestured him forward and Vash strode up a metal platform that wrapped around the base of the bulb. He placed his hands against the glass and then leaned in so his forehead was touching it as well. Kira immediately felt a prickling sensation down her arms and legs. It felt like the entire room was filled with a static charge. An eerie blue light began emanating from within the glass.

Kira gasped as a throng of vaguely feminine figures suddenly descended from the center of the bulb and swarmed around Vash. He looked up, an overjoyed expression brightening his features. Ellie let out a small chuckle. "They're communicating through telepathy," she explained. Kira almost laughed—she knew all too well.

The three women watched in awe as Vash spoke silently with his sisters. Minutes slowly crept by and his face shifted through a wide range of emotions that made Kira uneasy. When he finally turned away from the bulb, his jaw was firmly set in determination. He addressed Ellie first. "I want to thank you again for allowing me to see them."

"How could I say no? You have more of a right than anyone. I'm just grateful that you allowed me to be a spectator."

He smiled and then turned to Meryl and Kira. "We should go." He gave Meryl a subtle look and she nodded.

"Well, I can see you out. Thanks for the visit," said Ellie, her curiosity evident. "Let me know if you ever want to see them again. I'd love the chance to chat with you sometime."

Vash tipped his head. "Absolutely!"

x.x.x.x.x

Once they were back in the car and safely out of earshot of anyone else, Meryl turned to Vash.

"What is it?"

He sighed. "I think I'm gonna need your help again. He's alive and he's somewhere nearby, but they don't have any details. They… they said he's in pain…" His voice caught.

Kira's stomach clenched at his words. She swore softly.

Vash continued. "The Federation must have him. Do you know anyone in there? I need to find out exactly where he is and what they're doing to him," he growled. It was odd to hear that amount of anger coming from his lips.

Meryl frowned. "I'll see what I can do, but you might have to be patient…"

"I understand. Just do what you can."

She nodded.

x.x.x.x.x

Meryl offered to let them stay at her place and they gratefully accepted. Vash intended to sleep on the floor but Kira insisted they could share the futon. It was oddly less awkward sharing with him than Knives since they didn't have such a strange history. Still, it was not something she wanted to do more than necessary.

x.x.x.x.x

She awoke the next morning to the sound of Meryl in the kitchen. Vash was still snoring softly on his side of the futon and she got up carefully. She found the raven-haired woman reading a paper at the table and sipping on a steaming mug off coffee.

Meryl looked up when she walked in. "Good morning."

"Morning," Kira mumbled tiredly.

"Coffee's ready. Milk is in the fridge."

She poured a cup and sat down, blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. Meryl went back to her paper, but every once in a while her eyes would dart up to Kira, then right back down again. Finally, she looked up and kept her eyes steady, exhaling slowly.

"I… I want you to know that I'm really sorry for what happened. I don't regret what I did, but I'm sorry I hurt you and Vash."

"And Knives?"

She pursed her lips. "And Knives… I'm sorry that he's being held captive. I don't know what's going on, but it's not right."

Kira sighed. "I… do… understand why you did it." She tapped her mug absently. "It's not like I didn't consider it myself at first. But I am worried about where your loyalty lies now. What will you do it we somehow manage to find Knives and break him free?"

"I'll keep him hidden. I don't know what happened, but clearly someone has rigged the system. As far as I'm concerned, Knives is 'dead.' He's paid for his crimes. The fact that they're keeping him a secret makes me think that he's probably paid very dearly. I don't believe anyone should be forced to suffer that kind of existence."

The gray-eyed girl offered her a peaceable smile. "I'm glad to hear that."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira decided to spend the day looking for a job and a place to live, since they had no idea how long it would take to infiltrate the Federation. Meryl offered to introduce her to the station manager at NLBC and by midday, she'd secured a position for Kira as a production assistant. It sounded like menial work, but it was better than nothing.

They may have had a rocky start, but Kira couldn't deny that the raven-haired woman was incredibly helpful.

Housing was a more difficult matter. Most of the planet's population still resided in Octovern so places to rent were limited and overpriced. She returned to Meryl's that evening dejected and defeated. The expression on Vash's face when she walked through the door told her he'd had a rough time as well.

She raised an eyebrow and sat beside him on the couch in Meryl's living room. "Bad day?"

He shook his head. "I went to the Federation's headquarters and told them I wanted to speak with someone about giving me my brother's remains. I waited there most of the day and finally some guy told me that he'd been cremated already and they hadn't saved the ashes."

Kira gave him a confused look. "Well what did you think they'd say?" It wasn't like they could give him a body…

"I don't know. I guess I just hoped they'd send me to someone who'd have more information."

"Is there any way I can help?"

"No. It's better if they don't know your face. They'd expect me to show up—I'm his family. But you're still off their radar. That might come in handy."

She nodded, feeling rather useless. "So what's next?"

He shrugged. "I'll probably go back again and see if I can speak to someone who met him. Even if they won't tell me where he is now, maybe they could tell me about when he first got there. Call it closure…"

She frowned. "Are you sure that's wise? You don't want to draw too much attention to yourself…"

They turned at the sound of the door. Meryl walked in and a moment later an excited Millie came hurtling at them, wrapping Vash in a big hug. She captured Kira next and the gray-eyed girl couldn't help but laugh at the large woman's enthusiasm.

x.x.x.x.x

They talked with Millie over dinner, catching up on all the latest news in her life, most of which involved her extensive family. Kira found it strangely relaxing to sit back and watch the three friends chatting. They knew each other so well…

She missed that feeling—the camaraderie. She missed Knives. To think he was out there trapped somewhere, suffering… It made her ache to think that she'd wished this upon him, even for a moment.

They'd save him. They had to.

Kira focused back on the three friends and found Meryl staring daggers at Vash, her arms crossed over her chest. "So, you went to the Federation today," she said tartly.

Vash looked shocked. "H-how did you…?"

"You're famous, Vash, in case you'd forgotten," she snapped, obviously exasperated. "Apparently, my station manager ordered a tail on you as soon as he heard you were in the city. They know you're staying with me and now he wants me to do an 'inside scoop' on you and how you're coping with your brother's execution."

He gave her a disgusted look.

"I know… I told them to back off, but I'm worried if I push too hard they'll just assign someone else to cover you. At least this way I can keep tabs. Anyway, they saw you go to the Federation and I recommended that we should try to 'paint the whole picture.' You know—like get a direct quote from someone who spoke to Knives while he was incarcerated," she arched an eyebrow to underline her scheme.

Vash broke into a wide grin. "You're a genius! That's perfect."

She smiled smugly. "Yeah, I thought so too. And I've assigned my new production assistant with the task of finding a worthy candidate," she said with a pointed look at Kira. "Speaking of which, I'm officially kicking you out of my apartment as of today."

"What?" Kira said, surprised by the sudden eviction. She could probably find an inn, but it'd be a pain.

"We're about to go up against the largest military organization on the planet. If my idiot network is paying attention, then they probably are too. The less they know about us, the better."

"But where's she supposed to stay?" Vash cut in, equally shocked.

"It's a little suspicious that you two showed up on the same day, but luckily my station manager is pretty dim. I told the guy you're Millie's friend from college, so…" She trailed off, staring at Millie patiently.

The big girl suddenly seemed to catch on. "Oh—right!" she chirped cheerfully. "You're going to stay with me!"

Kira gave the two women an impressed look. Simple. Effective. Allowed for easy communication and understandable meetings.

Meryl gave Kira a brief repentant smile. "I really will do whatever I can to help out. And, the fact that this could turn into the biggest story on the planet is just icing on top," she said with a self-satisfied smirk.

The gray-eyed girl couldn't help but grin. "It's a good plan. Thank you, Meryl."

The short woman nodded curtly. "On that note, you two should probably head home. I like to start early. We can go over my Federation contacts in the morning."

After Millie had bestowed a flurry of hugs on Vash and Meryl, Kira patted Vash on the shoulder and extended her hand to Meryl. "Tomorrow, then." Meryl grabbed her hand and shook it firmly.

x.x.x.x.x

The following morning, Meryl officially assigned her new production assistant the task of finding a lead at the Federation. True to her word, she gave Kira a list of contacts to start with. Unfortunately, the task proved to be much more difficult than expected.

It took Kira nearly three weeks to contact and 'interview' every person on Meryl's list in an attempt to track down someone who had actually interacted with Knives. It soon became clear that his case information was restricted to a very small group of people. Most of Meryl's contacts had been useless, providing information that was already publicly available. However, Kira did hear one name repeated by multiple sources: Chronica.

She reached out several times requesting 'a preliminary interview on behalf of Ms. Meryl Stryfe at NLBC.' Usually people knew Meryl well enough to at least answer, but after her third try without a response, it was clear Kira was being ignored. It had been over a month since Knives had 'died' and she was growing tired of waiting. She needed to make contact with the damn woman and patience was getting her nowhere.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira left work early and headed over to the Federation Ships, having decided to take matters into her own hands. She was still amazed at how the fleet, after arbitrarily landing on the outskirts of town, had since been absorbed by the city. Small shops and restaurants had sprung up around them like weeds, feeding off the consumers they provided—residents of an entirely foreign planet who had somehow integrated themselves as a ruling force.

It made her long for the freedom she'd had as a scavenger, when she only had a few soldiers to deal with. The longer she spent in Octovern, the more she realized she was not well suited to the place…

But now was not the time to worry about that. She had a more pressing matter. She arrived at the front gates of the head ship and flashed her NLBC press badge. The secretary at the front let her through—she actually did have a meeting with one of Meryl's contacts, but she wasn't going to make it to see them. She needed to speak to Chronica, and direct contact seemed to be her only option.

She walked quickly down the halls, making no unnecessary eye contact. The less attention she drew, the better. She was glad she'd already had several interviews on this ship and had a rough idea of the layout. She made her way to the room number she'd been told was Chronica's and pressed the buzzer in front, grateful that the hall was empty for now.

The door opened and a fussy-looking young man in uniform stared down his nose at her. "May I help you?" he asked curtly.

"Um… yes. I'm here to see Chronica."

"She isn't expecting anyone… May I ask your name?"

"My name is Kira Derinau. I'm here on behalf of Meryl Stryfe at NLBC. I must speak with her."

"Oh… Yes." He pursed his lips. "We've received your previous requests, but she is not interested."

"Please! Can you ask her again? I can wait."

He let out a small sigh. "Very well. Wait here." He closed the door in her face and she wondered if he was simply hoping she'd leave on her own. If he were, he'd be disappointed. She'd stay here all day if she had to. She stood firmly in place and was considering buzzing again when the door opened abruptly.

"You may wait inside," he said, a hint of irritation and confusion in his tone. She did her best to conceal a self-congratulatory grin as she sat on a chair in the small entry room. He returned to his desk and ignored her.

Kira sat quietly, staring at her hands, again wondering if this was all a ploy. Maybe they were sending for security and wanted to keep her contained. But as the minutes ticked by and no one else came by to get her, she grew more certain that Chronica just wasn't in a rush to speak. Finally, a phone on the young man's desk rang.

He picked it up. "Ma'am?" He glanced over at Kira. "Yes… yes… right away." He set down the receiver and stood. "She will see you now." The young man opened a door to his right and gestured Kira in, closing it behind her.

She was surprised at the sight of the woman seated at a desk on the opposite side of the large room. She was… beautiful. And young. She looked too young to be as highly regarded in the military as Meryl's contacts had painted her. Kira was expecting a grim-faced matron, not this clear-eyed ingénue.

"Welcome," the woman said calmly, her voice a sultry alto. "Kira… Derinau, was it? Please, have a seat."

Kira sat in a low chair in front of the woman's wide desk. She wondered if other people who sat here were generally being reprimanded. It certainly made her feel somewhat intimidated. She cleared her throat in a useless attempt to bolster her confidence and began, "Ms. Chronica—"

"Just Chronica is fine."

"Uh… thank you. Chronica, I've been sent here by NLBC to interview you on your involvement regarding Millions Kni—"

"Yes, I know why you're here. You want to know what happened to him before he died."

"Y-yes. That's right." Kira tried to curb her anxiety. She needed to stay relaxed… disconnected… impartial… She pulled out a pad and pen to take notes on "Could you please tell me about your experience with him while he was detained here?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "My experience? Well… it was complicated, to say the least. You see, he was responsible for the death of someone very close to me during the battle. When he was alive, I was in charge of interrogating him. I found it very difficult to remain unbiased while I was playing around in his head…" she said with a cunning smile.

Kira felt a pang of apprehension. "In his head?"

"You don't know? I'm a plant Kira. Like he was."

Of course. How could she not have guessed it? The woman was probably reading her right now. She shielded herself as quickly as she could. But she'd never been very good at maintaining it…

Chronica's sneer softened. "As difficult as it was, I did treat him fairly, for the most part. I want you to know that. I did my job—I reported only what I needed to. I left out any unnecessary details of what I saw… like the fact that he became lovers with his travelling companion."

Kira's blood ran cold.

The blond chuckled. "Yes. I know who you are. You should have used your name before—we could have spoken much sooner. Anyway, you should be grateful that I'm the only one who would recognize your face. After I interrogated Knives I could have ordered our men to track you down and question you, but I didn't."

Kira swallowed, her throat dry. "So why did you agree to speak with me today?"

"I want to know why you're here," she stated, as if it were obvious.

"I need you to tell me what happened to Knives."

"You don't need me for that. It's public knowledge," she said slowly. "There must be more to it…" Chronica paused, narrowing her eyes slightly. "You're hiding something, I can feel it."

Kira strengthened her barrier again and waited for the faint prickle that signaled the plant was trying to break into her thoughts, but it never came. "Aren't you going to read my mind?" she asked in surprise.

The plant gave her a disgruntled look. "I am not a barbarian. Why? Did _he_ do that to you?"

Kira blushed. So plants usually did respect privacy…

Chronica rolled her eyes. "This isn't an interrogation, it's a conversation. However, I _would_ appreciate your cooperation. I'll ask again; why did you come to see me?"

"I…" Her voice faltered. She hadn't expected to be put on the spot like this… but this was her best chance. It had taken far too long to get here and she got the sense that the woman wouldn't speak with her a second time if she played her cards too close to her chest. The others knew she meeting with Chronica, so if she didn't return home, at least they'd know where to start looking. She had to try something. For Knives. "I don't… believe he's dead."

The blond gave her a condescendingly consoling look. "You poor child. Whatever you may have convinced yourself, I can assure you, he is dead."

"But… how can you be sure?"

"I was there when he was cremated," she answered simply before letting out a dismissive sigh. "Listen, girl, I _am_ sorry for your loss. I may not understand why, but I know that you were close to him—"

"When?" She must be wrong. Surely Vash would have felt it if Knives had been killed since they spoke to the angels…

"When?" The plant scowled in confusion.

"When did it happen?"

"It was over a month ago. Surely you heard about it? It was widely reported…"

Kira almost felt relieved. Chronica was talking about the fake execution. Which meant the cover up reached deep into the military… or Chronica was a great actress. Somehow Kira doubted that. The woman didn't seem like she'd be particularly good at playing pretend.

So now what…?

Chronica was studying her suspiciously.

"I… I think you're wrong."

The woman gave her a deadpan stare. "What?"

"Did you see his body?"

"It was inside a casket."

"So you can't be sure it was him."

"I believe it was… Why do you doubt me?"

"What do you know about me?"

The plant sat silently for a moment, distrust written on her face. "I know that you were the one who rescued him in the desert, and that you helped him get to the Melca Border ship."

"So you know that I met Vash?"

"Yes. I assume he's involved as well?" She gave Kira a contemptuous look. "Don't count on that fool's word. He wants to see his brother again as much as you. You're both dreaming."

"What if we weren't," she said, her gaze hard. "If we were telling the truth what would you do?"

The blond frowned, a faint unease in her eyes. "It's not possible…"

"Would you help us?"

"I… You must tell me what you know. Now."

Kira sighed. There was no going back after this… "Vash spoke to the angels. They told him that Knives was still alive."

Chronica leaned forward in her chair, her eyebrows knitted together. "When was this?"

"The day we returned to Octovern—nearly a week after the so-called 'execution.' Listen, all I'm asking is that you look into it. If they _did_ fake his death, even to you, it's not hard to imagine why they might want to keep his continued existence a secret."

If she sympathized in any way, the plant was hiding it well.

Kira continued. "The one thing the angels could tell Vash was that Knives was in pain. I'm sure whatever they're doing to him is inhumane, so I'll ask you one last time. Please. Help us find him. I'm begging you."

Chronica exhaled slowly, seemingly lost in thought, before offering the slightest of nods. "Very well," she said softly. "I'll see what I can do."


	20. Chapter 20

The light was dim in the cell, as usual. Knives lay on his back on the pallet, staring mindlessly at the ceiling and tracing his fingers down the crisscrossing scars that now decorated his left forearm, his chains clinking lightly as he moved. They'd spent over three weeks running various 'tests' on his gate, some more painful than others, before finally sewing him back up. He didn't even mind the marks he now bore—he was just glad that they'd stopped.

He'd only seen the techs once in the additional three weeks since then, when they came by to collect more physical samples. It was as if he'd been forgotten. Maybe they'd found a more interesting project to occupy their time. He was almost grateful, but apparently their declining interest correlated to declining 'care' for him.

They fed him less, not that they'd been feeding him well to begin with. He was given enough to survive off of, barely. He exercised in his cell as much as he could but without enough calories to support his effort, he tired easily. His ribs were becoming sharply visible.

They also hadn't brought him to the showers since the last test. He suspected it was because they were no longer trapped in a room with him for the entire day. Or maybe it was another of Garrow's twisted attempts to degrade him. To break him. He bathed as well as he could, using the sink in his room, but it wasn't enough. His hair and beard had been growing since he first arrived, and they were both becoming rather matted. He must look a mess…

Even Garrow seemed to have forgotten him. He hadn't seen the captain since the last gate test. He supposed he should be glad, but he was surprised to find that he missed having some kind of socialization. The only people he saw now were the guards who brought in his meals, and they remained silent, as always. The isolation he'd valued at the beginning was slowly driving him mad. It was as if he didn't exist. He wished someone—anyone—would interact with him beyond placing a tray on the floor in his cell.

To compensate, he lived inside his mind. He thought of Kira and Vash. He imagined what it would be like to reunite with them. Vash would laugh and clap him on the shoulder. Kira would rush into his arms. He had entire conversations with them and it almost made him feel better. Then he'd wake up to his dark, lonely reality…

The familiar creak of the external lever alerted him to a visitor. The door swung open and he sat up, squinting blindly, as the person turned up the lights.

"Well, hello there. May I just say, you look like shit." The captain offered a raucous throaty laugh.

"Garrow. What do you want?" He may miss socializing, but the captain was still a bastard.

"Now, is that anyway to speak to your generous benefactor? You'd be dead if it weren't for me. And you should be grateful that I'm taking time out of my busy schedule to come see you."

"What do you want?" he growled again.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're still alive." The captain walked over and nudged him with his boot but Knives wouldn't take the bait.

"I assume I'm alive because you want a first gen plant who you can harvest for the rest of eternity?" They had to be doing _something_ with the physical samples they kept taking from him. It must be why they hadn't disposed of him yet.

"Well, that is true, although there's always your brother…"

"Keep your fucking hands off of him!"

Garrow smirked, clearly amused by Knives' outburst. "I will, for now. But… you. I've been trying to decide what to do with you for the last few weeks and I think I finally have it figured. I hate to waste such a good specimen and I think, in the right position, you could be very useful to me. I obviously can't bring you back to life, so you will need to be kept secret, and since I can't trust you yet, you'll be monitored at all times, but your living conditions would improve and you might even find the work to your liking."

Knives narrowed his eyes. "You… you want me to work for you?"

"Yup. That about sums it up."

He weighed the options in his head. He despised this man—possibly more than any other human in existence—but maybe he could find a way to escape. And improved living conditions couldn't hurt… "What kind of work would I be doing?"

Garrow smiled, his eyes glinting. "Why don't we call it 'research?'"

"Research? Like what you've been doing to me?"

"Yes, but the big difference here is that it would be done to someone else."

"Another plant?"

"No—and that might be the other big draw for you. Your subjects would be humans."

Knives frowned. What the hell was this man up to? "Very well, I accept your offer."

"Glad to hear it. I'll send someone for you in the morning." The captain turned to the door.

"Wait—so I'm still staying here? In these fucking handcuffs?"

"Like I said, I don't trust you yet. You're gonna need to earn these improvements. I'll start by returning your hygiene privileges. Then, after that, we'll see."

The door groaned shut and Knives swore viciously. The fucking bastard. His swift regeneration was the only reason his wrists weren't entirely raw, but they still ached. He hoped this deal would mean more food as well. If there were any chance for escape, he'd need his strength.

x.x.x.x.x

A trio of guards retrieved Knives early the next morning. As promised, he was taken to the showers, an experience he was very thankful for. His hair and beard were still wild and unkempt, but at least they were clean, and he didn't smell anymore. The guards stood outside of the shower stall while he bathed and watched over him while he dressed. He was also glad to have fresh clothes for the first time in a month. Once he was ready, the guards brought him back to the lab he knew so terribly well.

There were already two masked technicians flitting about when he arrived. The pair raised their heads as he entered, and a shiver ran down his spine, a flickering remnant of the fearful anticipation they had instilled in him. He half expected the whole deal to be some new game of Garrow's—that they'd laugh and strap him to a table again—but they simply turned away and went back to their work.

The guards led him into the room, one on either side of him, their hands gripped firmly on his arms, while the third followed, a stun gun at the ready. They weren't taking any chances he'd run off, not that he'd get far—his hands and ankles were cuffed, as usual. He stood patiently, watching the pair at work, and wondered if any of the others would show up.

Despite their hidden faces, it hadn't taken long to differentiate and identify each of the seven technicians who experimented on him. He'd assigned them monikers in his head, since they withheld their names. From what he'd seen in the past, the two were 'laborers,' along with three of the others, and two 'foremen' oversaw and directed their actions. It was a small crew Garrow trusted, like the guards. The man wouldn't risk bringing in more people than necessary.

The sound of the door drew Knives' attention back to the situation at hand. A third tech walked in—one of the foremen, as expected. The man strolled over, his eyes crinkled, making his almost-black irises gleam. Dark Eyes—a rather clumsy moniker, but it worked… and he wasn't known for being subtle when it came to naming things. "Millions Knives, good to see you." He extended a hand gregariously.

Knives stared at the hand in disgust.

Dark Eyes simply retracted the offending limb after a moment and went on, undaunted. "Captain Garrow has given me the honor of directing you. I'm glad you have agreed to work with us—we are truly privileged." He bowed his head deeply.

It was a ridiculously overwrought display considering this man had been mercilessly torturing him only a few weeks ago. Knives had to curb his instinct to throttle the bastard. Now was not the time. He sighed. "What do you people want me to do?"

The man straightened. "Our subject will be arriving momentarily."

As if cued, the broad metal doors groaned open and a third 'laborer' tech walked in pushing a dazed-looking man in a prisoner's uniform, strapped to a wheelchair. Immediately the others rushed over and began attaching various physical monitors man's body.

"Ah," said the tech cheerfully. "Splendid timing. Knives, I'd like you to meet H-34."

"H-34?" What the hell had he gotten into…

"Yes, that is correct. What we are attempting is to alter our subject's body through genetic mutation. Now, as I'm sure you know, this kind of procedure is typically done pre-birth during fetal development, but we have been working on a serum that will actually rewrite the body's genetic code, modifying it, even in a fully developed state!"

Knives rolled his eyes. He knew where this was going. "You're using plant DNA to increase his metabolism. You might be interested to know that an organization called The Eye of Michael has been working on this sort of thing for several decades…" He was actually glad they hadn't been more successful. Even though they'd provided him a number of useful subordinates, he'd always found their process revolting.

"Yes. We know of them. Garrow's men stumbled upon the few that remained after the war. I believe they're gone now. But we were able to pour through their research materials and we found their methods quite… interesting. We were, shall we say, inspired by their techniques. Our strategy differs quite a bit, however, in that we only use independent DNA rather than the DNA from angels. We've been working developing our serum for the last six months with limited success, but we believe we've found the key to cracking the code—so to speak. The problem is that second generation independents have already been altered to make them easier to control, but this makes their DNA less… aggressive. Recently, we've been using DNA from a first generation independent—namely, from you. It has produce _far_ more promising results."

Knives was repulsed by the idea, although he doubted his opinion on the subject mattered to them. "So how, exactly, would you like me to help?" he asked, his voice thick with contempt.

"It's very simple—for now, your job is to observe. We'd like you to monitor his mental state and any subsequent abilities he may develop."

"I see. Unfortunately, I won't be able to aid you with this collar wrapped around my neck."

The tech sniffed. "Yes, we are aware of this problem and will be reducing your telepathic barrier during these tests. But you should know, if anything goes wrong… there will be consequences."

"I'd expect nothing less," Knives said, his blue eyes glittering.

Dark Eyes nodded and gave a little signal to one of the cameras aimed at them. Knives suddenly felt… released. He couldn't contain a slight smile. It had been so long since he felt like… like himself. For the briefest moment, he considered trying to kill everyone in the room, but decided against it. Whoever was watching would simply turn the collar on again and there were too many guards between him and the exit for any chance of escape.

"Now, please monitor him and we will administer a dose of the serum. It should take effect rather quickly, so be prepared."

Knives scowled but did as instructed out of curiosity more than anything else. He wasn't prepared for what he found inside the man's mind. It was… quiet. Eerily quiet, as if all of the man's personality had been suppressed. Had he been brainwashed?

"Are you ready?" Dark Eyes asked, disrupting his thoughts.

He nodded silently and one of the other techs put a syringe into the subject's arm. The man didn't even react to the prick of the needle—not physically or mentally. He just… sat… staring.

Then it began.

The man began to breathe faster as his heart rate picked up, but his mind was still unnaturally silent. His limbs began to twitch and Knives felt a flicker of… something.

_Help… me…_

Knives shuddered at the terror that laced the whimpered words. Physically, the man continued staring forward, his gaze empty. What had they done to him? Knives pushed himself deeper into his psyche, trying to grasp the elusive wisps of thought when suddenly he was drowning in an ocean of voices. He could hear them! The man could hear them all—the techs, the guards—hell, judging by the volume he was probably capturing anyone within a block of the building! It was amazing—until he began screaming.

Agonizing waves of pain and fear washed through the man's mind and into Knives. He swore and put up a barrier around them both, trying to staunch the inflow of telepathic information. It seemed to work and the man quieted a bit, both mentally and physically.

"What did you do?" the tech snapped.

"I put up a shield around him."

"Take it down. Now."

Knives wrinkled his nose. "Why?"

"If he can't survive without your help, he is useless to us."

"I don't think you understand—learning to use telepathy is a difficult process. It's easy to be overpowered by—"

"I don't need any explanations. Do as you're told."

Knives laughed. "No—you foolish human—if you want him to survive this process, you must give his mind time to adjust."

The tech signaled to the camera and he felt the wall enclose his mind again. The man began screaming and Knives could only look away.

He shouldn't care. He didn't know this person. But… it reminded him of when he and Vash were kids. Their telepathic skills had taken years to fully develop. At first, they could only speak to each other when they were close, but gradually, during their first year, they began to pick up on Rem's mind as well, when she was in the room with them. She had reprimanded them, of course, and that was when they first learned to shield against unwanted telepathic connections.

It was easy, on the ship, since everyone else was asleep. He only had to block out Rem and Vash's minds. But after the Big Fall, once all the humans were awake… From a distance, it wasn't so bad, but when the twins needed food, they had to go in close. The first time they approached a human settlement had been a humbling experience. He remembered how crushing it had been, trying to shut out the screaming mass of voices. He was sure it would have destroyed him if Vash hadn't been there to help. They'd taken turns, shielding each other, until their minds learned to instinctively filter out the unwanted connections.

Knives stared at his feet, trying to suppress the aching empathy he felt for the pathetic human. Minutes ticked by at an agonizing pace and the man's screams eventually quieted to moans, then to soft whimpers, and then went silent. Knives finally looked up. The man was slumped to the side breathing very shallowly. He wouldn't last much longer. What a waste. The man gave a few rattling breaths before his body went limp. He was dead.

Dark Eyes walked up and felt for a pulse. A moment later he looked down at his watch. "Time elapsed until death: thirteen minutes, thirty two seconds. Please make note of it," he said stiffly, and one of the others jotted it down.

"I could have saved him, you know," Knives said bitterly.

"If he needed your protection to survive, then we were unsuccessful. I'm surprised you care."

"I don't. I just don't understand what I'm doing here if you don't want my help."

The tech gestured to another. "Bring in the next one, please. We still have two to go." He turned back to Knives. "You are here to monitor when we are _successful_."

"Have you been successful?"

Dark Eyes stared down at him coldly. "That is none of your concern."

"Who are these people?" Knives' anger was rising.

"You don't need that information."

"Where do they come from and what have you done to them? There was something wrong with that man before you injected him with your… your serum."

"Again, that does not concern you."

"Tell me!"

Dark Eyes sighed heavily, his previous agreeable attitude spent. "Like yourself, they are unwanted by society and useless to this planet. They are criminals, sentenced to death. We thought using them here was a better option than lethal injection."

Realization suddenly dawned on him. "The No Man's Land Reformation… that was you, wasn't it? You created a law so you could label whoever you wanted as 'criminals' and use them as test subjects!"

"These people _are_ criminals and are a waste of resources. They are a detriment to the society we would like to create. They need to be removed and, in this way, they can help the rest of the planet in the process."

"What have you done to them? Why was his mind so quiet."

"They have gone through rigorous mental conditioning with chemical augmentation to whittle them down to their most basic cognitive states. We have tried to teach them how to defend their minds against the telepathic onslaught, but, should we succeed, we also need to be able to mold them. The last thing we want is another independent like yourself."

"So… so you're not just giving them enhanced abilities? You're actually trying to turn them into plants?"

"Yes. And the easiest way to monitor a plant is with another plant. We'd prefer to keep our own independents separate from this as much as possible, which leaves you. Is that enough of an answer?"

"I'll ask again—have you been successful?"

"… No. Not entirely. We've had a few survive the physical change, since we began using _your_ serum, but we haven't been able to overcome the difficulties of the mental change yet. And believe me, your shielding would do little good. You may have eased his suffering, possibly extended his life slightly, but you would not have saved him. We have tried using collars to shield them—we can block the telepathic connections, just as you can—but the instant that protection is removed, they go right back into this panicked state and are quickly overtaken by the input. Their minds and bodies cannot handle the stress of it."

"But it takes time. You have to ease them into it—"

"We have tried—everything! We tried shielding a group of them long term and slowly adjusting them to the input, but it didn't work. We are now training them to protect themselves using chemical and mental conditioning, as I said. But even in the best cases, the few who survived were left in a coma, their minds completely destroyed, and we were eventually forced to put them down. And _if_ one should survive, it does us little good if the serum kills 99% of the people it's given to. That is useless to us. We need to be able to take nearly anyone, train them, and change them, successfully."

Knives clenched his jaw. "Why do you want to change them anyway?"

"It is not my place to say."

"Garrow?" The thought of the captain with an army of brainwashed plants was terrifying.

"We… believe in his vision." The door opened and another man was brought in, looking equally dazed. "Now," Dark Eyes said, staring at Knives disdainfully, "do we have your support or not?"

If he helped, it gave him intel… it gave him something to do… it made his living situation better… and he might be able to earn Garrow's trust, which could come in handy.

But…

"No." As tempting as it was he just couldn't bring himself to comply. It felt… wrong.

"Very well." He signaled the trio of guards and they grabbed Knives by the arms, leading him away while the techs began work on their next subject. As the doors to the lab closed behind him and he began the trek back to his cell, Knives could hear the muffled sound of screaming.

x.x.x.x.x

That night, Knives lay in his cell staring up at the ceiling and running his fingers along his scars when the door groaned open. He stood and flashed a smile at the captain.

"You stupid fucking ingrate." Garrow loomed into the room, closing the door behind him. "You won't get another chance like that."

"I didn't realize my refusal would mean so much to you."

"It would have been a win-win—it's as simple as that. But there's not much I can do, I suppose. Anyway, I wanted to thank you personally for you help today."

Garrow struck fast, gripping Knives' shirt and throwing his entire, heavy weight into the plant, knocking him backwards. Knives' head hit the wall with a crack, leaving him stunned. The captain landed a strong blow to his jaw; knocking him to the ground, blood filling his mouth.

The large man began kicking him in the side repeatedly. Knives turned and grabbed his leg, hanging on tightly. The man flailed his arms in an attempt to keep his balance as Knives sent a vicious kick up to his groin. Garrow crumpled instantly, giving Knives enough time to jump on his back and loop a chain around his neck.

Knives began pulling with all his strength. He waited for someone to run in and stop him, but no one came. Garrow frantically tried to get free, with no success. The man gurgled, clawing at the chain, his eyes bulging as Knives kneeled on him, pinning him to the ground. With a surprising show of strength, Garrow managed to roll the pair of them to the side.

Knives jumped back on top of him, holding him down and continuing to wrench on the chain. The captain bent a knee, reaching into his boot, and Knives saw a flash of silver before Garrow arced the blade at his face.

It sliced across his eyes and Knives dropped the chain, howling in pain. Everything was blurred mass of shadow. He could hear the chain clink and Garrow gasping for air beside him, but he was too preoccupied to care. He heard the captain scramble away and moments later was struck by another kick to the side.

"You… fucking… asshole…" Garrow rasped. "You're lucky… you're… worth more… alive than dead." He heard the man walk to the door. "I… won't… be back… Enjoy… being harvested… for the rest… of your miserable… life."

The metal door groaned closed and Knives huddled against the wall in the darkness.


	21. Chapter 21

It was over. He was… done. Garrow had won.

People he assumed were the techs sedated Knives and wrapped loose bandages around his eyes, but that was the limit of their efforts. Why should they bother trying to save his sight? After all, it didn't affect their work.

Days passed. He was fairly certain an infection had set in, and his body had little strength to fight it. The relentless pain in his eyes, the fever raging through his skull, and the subsequent nausea it induced robbed him of his appetite, which only exacerbated the problem. Most of the time he left his trays of food untouched. He wondered if they'd force-feed him eventually. If they planned to, they'd better do it soon. He wouldn't last much longer…

Not that he cared. It didn't matter anymore. There was no point. He'd never get out of this fucking place. How could he? He was ready for it to end…

He felt a little guilty that he was letting Vash and Kira down, but… they would understand.

He'd never see them again. He almost laughed at the double meaning, but it came out as a soft moan. In a way, he was grateful they had never come for him. He could accept this fate, if it kept them from Garrow's clutches.

Still…

He missed them so much… so much…

He could hear the grating latch and a moment later the door groaned open. He waited for the clink of a food tray being set down, but it didn't come. Maybe they'd simply given up trying to feed him. Maybe they had obtained enough physical material and they didn't need him anymore.

"Knives."

The voice startled him—it was female. And the guards never spoke. And… the prickle of energy was familiar. It had to be…

"Chronica?"

He heard footsteps and felt a pair of hands fumbling with the cuffs on his wrists. "You must come with me, we don't have time." The cuffs clicked open and she pulled him to his feet. She began walking quickly, dragging him roughly behind her. "I looped the camera feeds and incapacitated the guards between us and our exit but we need to hurry—it won't take them long to notice, and there are more guards patrolling the halls. Can you run?"

"I… think so…"

"Good." She began jogging quickly, her hand wrapped around his arm. He tried to keep up with her pace but was surprised when fatigue set in almost instantly. Nevertheless, he refused to stop. He pushed forward with a determination he hadn't felt in weeks.

He followed doggedly, picturing the long halls in his head as they moved, until Chronica came to an abrupt halt. Knives heard the clink of a key in a lock followed by the groan of another heavy door. She tugged him forward and then grabbed his hand, putting it on something cold and metal.

"Stairs," she said brusquely.

He put a tentative foot out and began walking down, step by step, one hand gripped tightly to the railing, with Chronica holding on to his other arm. They continued down several flights until she stopped and he heard keys clinking again. There was a much deeper groaning sound—one of the exterior doors? He felt a breeze on his face and his heart began drumming rapidly. She pulled him forward and his bare feet met cool sand. He could hear an engine idling nearby and she led him towards it. He heard her pull open a door.

"Get in," she snapped, shoving him forward.

He climbed awkwardly into the seat of whatever vehicle they were escaping in and closed the door behind him. Chronica got in on the driver's side, slamming the door shut. She shifted into gear and the vehicle lurched forward.

They made it. He was out. It didn't seem real…

He swallowed thickly and tried to steady his breath. It came in ragged pants and he suddenly realized just how much energy the short escape had taken from him. He had been running on adrenaline, but now that it was fading, he was depleted. And really, really dizzy. Shit. He had overdone it.

He let out a soft grunt and leaned back, his head throbbing and his body shivering.

"What's wrong?"

He could hear Chronica's voice, but it sounded like it was coming from far away. Before he could reply, the exhaustion swallowed him up.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives jolted awake, his heart pounding. He ran his hand nervously over his surroundings: a knit blanket covering him, a pillow beneath his head, a plaster wall beside him. He let out a breath of relief. He wasn't in his cell. It hadn't been a dream.

He put a hand to his chest and felt a soft fabric shirt in place of his prisoner's uniform. Someone had changed his clothes? He placed a hand on his neck. The collar was still there… But the bandages covering his eyes felt different too. They were less stiff—probably freshly wrapped. He must have _really_ overdone it if he managed to sleep through all of that.

He could hear someone breathing nearby. Asleep? He pushed himself into a seated position and the bed creaked beneath him. The breathing faltered and he heard the answering creak of a chair.

"Chronica…?" he ventured cautiously.

He heard a chuckle. "I'll be damned—you finally decided to come back to the land of the living. Chronica's downstairs with the others. I forced them to let me keep watch for a bit so they could get some air. You had a fever. You've been unconscious for three days. You're lucky that woman thought to bring one of the Federation's med kits or I'm not sure if you'd still be here."

That voice… it was oddly familiar. Masculine. But it wasn't Vash… "Do I know you?"

"Yes, you know me, although it's been a while. I wouldn't say we were close…"

The man was teasing him. His anger flared. "Who are you? Tell me."

"As demanding as ever. I'm Livio."

"Livio?" After a moment it clicked. "Double Fang?"

"It's Livio, now," he stated stiffly. "Double Fang died when Wolfwood did."

Right… He'd been sent along with Trip of Death to kill the priest. Knives knew that Double Fang and Chapel had some kind of history. Did the man want revenge? What if he and Chronica orchestrated this whole thing to take him out, once and for all?

"Where am I?" he growled. "What do you want with me?"

Livio laughed. "Take it easy, you're safe. We're in Jericho, a town just outside of Octovern. I work at an orphanage here. Your friends said you needed a place to hide and this house is in the middle of nowhere and has been empty since the war, so I figured it'd be a good fit."

"My… my friends?"

"Yeah, Vash and—"

"Vash?" His heart leapt at the name. "He's here?"

"Yup. He's out back. If you want, I can take you to him."

Knives nodded, suddenly unable to speak. He pushed the blanket aside and stood carefully, surprised at how unsteady he was. Livio gripped his arm and led him forward slowly.

Being in a new location was somewhat disorienting, but not unpleasant. There was a pleasant, almost floral scent to the air—maybe lavender? It was much better than the pervasive odor of mold and the latrine that he'd grown used to. Instead of the concrete, he felt wood beneath his feet. Livio guided him out of the bedroom, down a flight of stairs, and through another room… or rooms. It was hard to tell. He heard a door squeak open and felt warm rays of sunlight hit him although the air was still relatively cool.

He heard a gasp of surprise and was tackled in a rib-crushing hug.

"Vash!" Even without his sight, he could _feel_ his brother's aura. He threw his arms around him, hanging on with everything he had. This wasn't real. This couldn't be real. It was a dream. He'd wake up and he'd be alone…

"You're awake! Dammit Knives—we were so fucking worried about you!"

He clung tighter and could only smile at his brother's remonstration. "I'll try not to leave again. I promise."

Vash released him, sniffling. "You'd better not."

"Knives…"

He heard a soothing female voice behind him and his heart skipped a beat at the sound.

"… Kira." He turned and she wrapped her arms around his waist, her face pressed against his chest. He let out a shuddering breath and held her, trying to take in every sensation—her touch, her warmth, her smell. He tangled his fingers in her hair, enjoying how silky it felt. "Your hair's longer."

She laughed and leaned back. "Yours too. And a beard, huh? I thought you hated them."

"Didn't have much of a choice."

He felt her stiffen. "I'm sorry it took so long to get to you."

He pulled her close again, nuzzling the top of her head. "You're here now…"

Vash cleared his throat loudly. "Aaanyway… you should know, Chronica, Meryl, and Millie are here too. Knives…" His voice suddenly took on a strangely serious tone. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?"

Knives let go of Kira and turned toward his brother's voice. "I'm… as good as can be expected. I'm… fine, really…" He put a hand absently to the bandage over his eyes.

"What happened?" Vash asked quietly.

Knives let out a humorless laugh. "I got in a fight and this was the end of it."

"You got in a—"

"Captain Garrow?" Chronica asked, cutting Vash off.

"Yes."

"Who's that?" Vash asked.

"He was the man in charge of overseeing me," Knives answered brusquely.

"He's the one who faked your death," Chronica murmured.

"Yes." Garrow. In all the commotion, he'd briefly forgotten about the man who nearly destroyed him. The man with the power to shape this new world as he saw fit. He was still out there. He was still a threat—to Knives and to anyone close to him… It was a sobering thought. But somehow, Chronica had outmaneuvered the captain. "How did you find me?"

"Garrow's guards aren't as loyal as he thinks," Chronica replied dryly. "What he did to you was illegal. It didn't take much pressure to convince one of them to cooperate with us. I told him the Federation was investigating Garrow's crimes, and that if he worked with us, I'd make sure he was pardoned. He knew where you were—brought us copies of the keys and everything. In a way, you're lucky you weren't still on one of the ships. The security in that 'new' facility is hilariously antiquated, like most of the architecture on this planet. I suppose it works to keep criminals in, but was child's play for someone of my skill to break you out, once we knew exactly where to find you."

"But, how did you know I was alive at all?"

"It was Vash," said Kira, jumping in. "He knew, right from the start. And the angels confirmed it."

"But Kira was the one who tracked down Chronica and convinced her to help us," Vash said quickly. "After Chronica found you, she and Kira planned the escape."

"But you had the idea of calling Livio. If it was just Chronica and I, we'd be camped out in the desert somewhere," Kira said with a laugh.

"Yeah, thanks for involving me," Livio said flatly.

"And I couldn't have found Chronica without Meryl and Millie's help… It really took everyone."

Knives suddenly felt overcome by the amount of effort that had gone into his rescue. "Thank you," he said softly. "I… I never… expected…" He felt a lump growing in his throat. "I'm grateful…" It was too much. The emotions he'd kept so deeply buried while he was in captivity were on the verge of spilling out in front of everyone.

His sorrow. His fear. His pain. He was trembling trying to push them back down.

"Hey." Kira put a hand on his back. "You want to come upstairs with me? I held onto your pack—your clothes are here if you want to change."

He felt a wave of relief. "Yes. I'd like that."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira took Knives by the hand and led him back into the house. He was clearly overwhelmed. It must be a lot to process, and after everything he'd been through…

"Thanks… for getting me out of there," he said.

"Yeah." She wasn't entirely sure if he meant the criminal facility or just now, although she suspected the latter. She began describing the house as they walked through it until they reached the bedroom. "Your room is the first door to the left if you're coming up the stairs. You'll be sharing with Vash. There's a bathroom to the left too… uh, across the hall from your room. You want me to run you a bath or something before you change?"

"Yes… please."

She left him beside his bed and trotted quickly to the bathroom to start the water before returning. He was moving along the wall, trailing his hand lightly over the various pieces of furniture when she returned. She felt a pang of sorrow at the sight. She'd seen his eyes the day he arrived, when Vash first changed the bandages. They were in pretty rough shape, and since he healed quickly, she suspected the injury had happened fairly recently, which meant he was still new to this situation. He was still adapting… She'd do whatever she could to make the transition as easy for him as possible. "I can trim your beard for you if you'd like? I don't think Vash'll care if we borrow his shaving kit."

"… Yes. Thanks."

She grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. He sat silently on the closed toilet while she clipped the mess of facial hair into something a little less chaotic. At least he didn't resemble his poster nearly as much now, not that anyone should be looking for him since most of the world thought he was dead. The bathtub was full by the time she was done and she turned it off before facing him again and clipping the last few stray hairs.

"There," she said, trying to sound cheerful. "It's good to see more of your face again." She left out the fact that his face looked rather gaunt without his unruly beard hiding it. "Alright, I got you a toothbrush and toothpaste. I can help you with that too if you want?"

His lips tensed in a slight grimace, but he nodded. Needing help for even the simplest tasks must be quite a blow to his pride, but at least he was accepting it. She loaded the toothbrush for him and handed it over, watching sympathetically as he bumped it into his lower lip on the way into his mouth. This was going to be a very humbling process…

Once he had finished up, she took his hand. "The tub is here," she said, placing his fingers on it. "I put the soap and washcloth on this stand beside it." She placed his hand there as well. "The towel is on the wall behind it, right here. I'll be just outside in the hall, so let me know if you need anything. Vash changed your bandages this morning, so we'll leave them on for today—just keep your head above water. We can wash your hair tomorrow. Sound good?"

He nodded again.

She grabbed Vash's kit and returned to the bedroom, her heart heavy. She'd wanted to see him so badly and now that he was here, she had no idea how to act around him. He'd been through so much… Should she ask him about it—offer him a friendly ear? Or was it better to try to ease his mood and let him broach the subject on his own?

And the two of them… What were they? When he held her so tenderly earlier, the complicated feelings she'd been dismissing and denying for the last few months sprang forth with a vigor that surprised her. But now he seemed… detached. She sighed, mentally chastising herself. The last thing he needed was her overthinking their relationship.

A sudden crash from the bathroom rang in her ears. She ran in to find Knives leaning forward in the tub. The stand that had been holding the soap was on its side by the door.

"Did you… throw it?" she asked, staring at it with an eyebrow raised.

"I dropped the soap," he responded dully.

She closed the door behind her and put the stand back in place before searching the floor for the missing bar of soap. A soft knock diverted her attention.

"Everything okay in there?" came Vash's voice.

"Yeah, it's fine," she answered. She saw the soap against the wall and retrieved it, setting it back on the stand. Her eyes lifted, and for the first time, she fully beheld the state Knives was in. She couldn't contain a gasp.

She had seen the scars on his arm, of course, but Vash had taken charge of caring for him the last few days. The handful of marks that decorated his back were a further testament to the horrors he must have experienced. On top of that, it looked like his skin had been stretched taught over his ribs. She knew he hadn't eaten for the last few days, but had the bastards fed him at all? "Oh, Knives…" she murmured sadly.

He let out a hollow laugh. "Yes, I'm sure I look quite gruesome to you now."

"No! It's not that! I just…" She knelt beside the tub. "It hurts, seeing what they did to you… what you've gone through…" She picked up the washcloth, swiped the soap against it and began washing Knives' back and shoulders before rinsing them with some of the bathwater.

He stayed silent.

She suddenly felt incredibly awkward for intruding into his space uninvited. "I'm sorry… I'll go…"

He turned sharply. "No. Please don't." His voice was oddly tremulous. He let out a slow breath. "I don't want to be alone."

"… Okay. Here." She handed the soapy washcloth to him. "I'll stay."

x.x.x.x.x

She talked to him as he washed himself. She told him of what had happened on the ship, excluding the fact that it was Meryl who had betrayed him. Vash could decide how and when to share that information, if ever. She told him of her various failed escape attempts. He even grinned briefly at some of the more ridiculous ones.

When he was done, she handed him a towel. He dried off quickly before wrapping it around his waist and reaching his hand out mutely. She grinned and took hold, leading him back to the bedroom before digging into his pack for some clothes. She'd washed everything the day before they had put their plan in action, so at least they were clean. She handed him one item at a time, telling him what it was, and then waiting quietly while felt it and oriented it before putting it on.

When he was finished, his lips curved slightly. "I can't believe you saved these…"

"I always hoped I'd be able to return them." She put her hand through his. "I… I really missed you, you know."

His smile fell… too quickly. "Thanks for trimming my beard," he said, gently pulling his hand away.

"No problem," Kira said, trying to mask the confusion in her voice. "I can do it anytime. And I'll tackle your hair once you get those bandages off…"

He sat down heavily on the bed, hunched forward.

She sat beside him. "Knives… do you want to talk?"

He let out a harsh breath. "I feel so pathetic. I can't shave on my own. I can barely dress myself… How am I going to do this?"

"You might still have some sight. If the cuts weren't too deep—"

"I doubt it. Maybe, if the bastards had put forth more of an effort when I was first injured," he said bitterly. He shook his head. "But it's too late now. It's been too long. My eyes have healed too much—incorrectly. My only chance now is to ask the angels to heal me. They could rebuild the ocular structure… But the only ones left are in Octovern, the Federation, and the Melca Border ship. And I don't expect their caretakers would be eager to grant me access to my sisters."

Kira frowned. "I don't know. We met a friend of Meryl's at the bulb in Octovern when Vash asked the angels about you. She was pretty excited to watch Vash interact with them. Maybe she'd do the same for you just to watch them heal you?"

He let out a cynical huff. "Yes, and then she'd turn me in and everyone's efforts to help me escape would have been for nothing."

"Hey—you don't know that. We should talk to Vash and Meryl, at least. And in the meantime, I'll be here to help you with whatever you need. We'll all help you. If you need anything, just tell me."

She tried to keep her tone light and encouraging, but it seemed to have the opposite effect of what she intended. Knives clenched his jaw for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was somber. "Kira, there _is_ something I need you to do…"

"Name it," she responded, curious at the weight behind his words.

"You have to leave."

"What?" Leave? He couldn't mean it! "Why?"

He hesitated. "I… I don't want you here."

From his tone, she doubted the sincerity of his words, but it still felt like a slap in the face. He was trying to push her away. Maybe he was concerned for her? "Is this because of the Federation? I'm not afraid of them, if that's what you're worried about—"

"You should be!" he snapped. "You should be terrified! It would be so easy for them to make you disappear, if they ever found you. They would destroy you! Kira—you have to leave!"

She could hear the plea in his voice. A tear rolled down her cheek, soon followed by a second and she sniffed. "I won't," she said as evenly as she could.

His lips tensed. "Please, try to understand." He was having trouble keeping his voice steady. "They're going to come after me. Staying anywhere near me is a risk… And you have no future here. You shouldn't waste any more time on me," he said desperately. "Please. Go—while you still have a chance!"

"No. Don't ask me to do this. I don't want to leave you," she ground out through her tears. She still had a promise to keep. She wouldn't abandon him until this thing was finished. Besides, if she left now, she'd spend the rest of her life worrying about him anyway.

"Go…" His voice was weak now, his resolve gone. "Please go… please. I… I can't protect you…"

She couldn't contain a small, sobbing laugh and he raised his head in surprise. "Knives," she said with a sad smile, "you have _never_ protected me. But I won't stop protecting you. I won't leave until you're safe."

"Kira…" He let out a small sigh of defeat, his head bowed. "You never did like being told what to do." The corner of his lip twitched very slightly, although whether it was in irritation or amusement, she wasn't sure.

"Nope," she agreed, brushing her tears away. "I'm sorry… That's the one thing I can't do for you. It took so long to get to you and… I can't walk away now."

He gave her a single nod, though he was obviously still displeased with her refusal. "Then you have to promise me that you'll be careful. If anything were to happen to you…" He trailed off, the magnitude of his trepidation clear.

She felt her cheeks warm. "Yeah, yeah," she muttered, putting her hand on his. "I'll be fine. I'll be careful, I promise," she said earnestly.

He tightened his fingers around hers, and his tension seemed to ease a little.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira was actually glad Knives couldn't see the concern on everyone's faces when they returned. She led him to a seat next to Vash and pulled a chair up for herself.

"Welcome back!" Vash said with false cheer. "Good bath?"

Knives nodded.

"Is there anything you need?" the aqua-eyed plant asked anxiously.

"I'm fine," Knives replied, his tone even.

"You sure? It's kinda chilly. I can grab you a—"

"Vash. I'm fine."

"Well you look like you're starving, to me," Livio said with a smirk, ignoring Vash's scowl. "I'll go make dinner."

"I can help, if you want," Millie offered brightly, and Livio inclined his head.

"Thanks guys," Vash said to the pair as they disappeared inside. He turned back to his brother, his expression solemn. "So, what do you want to do?"

"… I assume you're asking me?" Knives said impassively.

Vash's eyebrows rose. "Uh, yeah. Sorry."

"What do I want to do…?" He shook his head. "I don't know… Just sitting here is enough, for now."

Warmth entered the aqua-eyed plant's features and he reached over and put his hand on his brother's. "Okay. Then let's sit."

"Actually, before you get too comfortable, there's a matter we need to address." Everyone turned to Chronica, who gazed back coolly. "By now, I'm sure that Garrow is aware of my assistance in freeing Knives. This means that I cannot return to the fleet in Octovern, at least not until I know more about the situation there."

"Of course!" Vash said brightly. "Don't worry—you can stay with us as long as you need."

She gave him a wry smile. "I appreciate it, but that's not what I wanted to discuss. I have connections in a few other places, but before I reach out, I need to know exactly what happened to you, Knives. I know this is all very fresh," she said, raising a hand to silence Vash, "but time is of the essence. I'm sure Garrow is already planning his next move, if not actively searching for us. We need to be prepared."

Knives let out a weak laugh. "I'm sure you already have a pretty good idea of what happened to me, at least for the most part. I'm the 'anomaly' and they wanted to learn as much as they could."

Chronica gave him an unusually sympathetic look. "What did they do?"

"They studied me. They ran every kind of test you can probably think of. And they took samples. That was my primary function toward the end."

"Samples?" Vash repeated.

"Blood, tissues… everything. Before I left, Garrow asked me to work for him. I saw his technicians injecting some 'serum' derived from my DNA into one of their test subjects, like the Eye of Michael used to do with material from the angels. Only instead of just increasing strength and recovery time, they want to create a fully functioning independent plant."

"When was this," Chronica asked sharply.

"Not long ago—maybe a week? They said they've been working on it for half a year. Apparently, having access to a first gen plant was the 'breakthrough' they needed."

Chronica looked dismayed. "That is most troubling. I can't imagine many in the Federation would support such a venture."

"The number of people I saw over the course of my internment was small—seven technicians and maybe a few dozen guards?"

Chronica pursed her lips. "We are lucky he overplayed his hand. He didn't account for the connection between you and Vash. He assumed that no one of value knew you were alive. And he put too much faith in his power to control others."

"Who is this guy," Vash asked, an uncharacteristic bite to his tone. "I mean, I know he was behind everything, but how the hell did he manage to finagle all this?"

"Garrow is in charge of 'societal development' on this mission," the blond intoned. "Essentially, his job is to shape your population into an suitably organized civilization that can then be integrated into the Federation's alliance. He's overseen the development of nearly a dozen planets and is very highly regarded. He coordinates with many of other departments, which is what worries me. I need to know whom else he might have dragged into this little scheme of his and how high up the chain of command it goes. If the admiral is aware of it, we may be in _very_ grave danger."

"What about the technicians?" Knives asked.

Chronica narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "He does have a team of scientists under his command, but I always thought their job was focused on the mental and physical condition of the new populations. I suppose they _do_ have the knowledge to attempt what you are describing… but I don't understand why they would want to."

"He's the one behind the No Man's Land Reformation," Knives stated.

"Yes," Chronica confirmed. "Your citizens are very… untamed. There doesn't seem to be a consistent moral code that people are encouraged to abide by. He deemed it necessary to increase the ramifications of stepping outside the law in order to retrain your population."

"It's deeper than that though," Knives pushed. "He doesn't just want to clean up the population—he's using the criminals he gathers as his test subjects. And he's messing around inside their heads. The man I observed… it was like his mind had been wiped clean."

"Brainwashed?"

"Yes, but to a level I didn't even know was possible. There was almost no trace of… of anything. I was inside his mind when they gave him the serum…"

"… And?" Chronica prompted.

"It worked, though I can't be sure how well. It killed him."

"Do you know _how_ it killed him," she persisted.

"He couldn't handle the telepathy. I tried to shield him, but they cut me off."

A small smile touched Vash's lips. "You tried to save him?"

Knives nodded. "The tech told me it wouldn't have helped—that they'd already tried shielding—but who can say. After the first one, I refused to take part. Garrow confronted me about it afterward. He wanted to show me how angry he was… That's when this happened." He gestured to his eyes.

"He did that because you wouldn't help him kill people?" Vash growled.

Knives shook his head. "He did this because I tried to strangle him—nearly succeeded too," he said softly. "I'm not a hero, Vash…"

A conflicted look crossed the aqua-eyed plant's face. "… Oh…"

"Sorry," his twin murmured.

An uncomfortable silence fell on the group as the clattering of pots and pans drifted out from the house.

It was Meryl who finally spoke. "So… it sounds like this Garrow guy will want to keep things quiet, since what he's doing is illegal. The stuff that happened to Knives might not cause as much of an uproar, no offense," she said in a weak attempt to placate the scowling plant, "but the Reformation being a front for some insane science experiment is huge news! If this gets out, it could start another war. They're going to want to take us down—covertly and quickly."

Chronica nodded. "Exactly. There are a handful of people I know I can trust. I'll reach out to them tomorrow and try to get more information. But we'll need to be cautious and vigilant."

"Meryl, maybe it would be best if you, Millie, and Kira went back to Octovern," Vash said quietly.

Kira opened her mouth to protest when Meryl barked out a laugh. "Not a chance! This is the scoop of the century! If you think you can force me to leave before I see how all this turns out, you've got another think coming!"

"You're going to need help," Kira added. "Both you and Knives need to stay out of sight… and Chronica _and_ Meryl, for that matter. And we can't ask Livio to do more for us than he already has. You'll need Millie and me to run errands, get groceries—that kind of thing. The rest of you are too conspicuous."

Vash pouted. "Yeah… I guess…"

Silence fell again as they individually pondered the difficult road ahead of them.

A lilting voice sang through the air, disrupting the pensive atmosphere. "Dinner's ready!"

Kira couldn't help but smile. It was nice to hear a _genuinely_ cheerful voice for a change. Millie always did seem to lighten the mood. They stood and made their way inside, with Vash leading his brother.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives hadn't realized how voraciously hungry he was until Livio and Millie's stew was in front of him. He also hadn't realized how tricky eating with utensils would be. He ran the spoon into his lips a couple of times in his speed to shovel more food into his mouth, and although no one said anything, he was sure they were either laughing at him or pitying him.

He was just beginning his third bowl when Livio excused himself, saying he needed to return home as he had work in the morning. The others expressed their gratitude for all his help and said their goodbyes, and Knives murmured one himself. He could hear a door close and gradually the sounds of good-humored conversation filled the air. Someone turned on the radio and he found himself lulled into a peaceful state he hadn't felt since the night on the ship, when he'd reunited with Vash… and when Kira had slept beside him.

Kira… To say he was conflicted about asking her to leave understatement. In a way, he couldn't be happier that she refused. But, in a way, he also wanted to knock her upside the head for being so fucking difficult! He wanted her there—he'd been dreaming about it since the day they parted—but now that they were together again, he realized how selfish it was to keep her around. The danger alone was motivation enough to push her away… and there were other reasons.

_Hey._

Vash's voice in his head was so shocking he almost dropped his spoon. He'd forgotten it was still possible for other plants to reach into his mind. He just couldn't reach out. _What?_ he answered back.

_It's getting dark and everyone's pretty tired after all the excitement. We'll probably head to bed soon._

_And you're using telepathy to tell me because…?_

He felt Vash chuckle mentally._ It's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor. I was wondering what you'd like to do about sleeping arrangements. Right now, you and I are sharing a room, but I can make myself scarce if you want…_

_You mean for Kira?_

_Yeah._

_Don't bother._

… _If you're nervous about your eyes, she wouldn't care about something like—_

_I asked her to leave. She refused. I don't think sharing a bed would be a wise next move. _If she even wanted to…

Vash went silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was heavy. _I'm sorry to hear that Knives._

_That I asked her to leave or that she refused?_

… _Both, I guess…_

Knives smiled faintly. It was a fair answer. _Like you said, maybe the best way to express my feelings for her is to push her away. She deserves more than what I can offer._

_Hey—don't sell yourself short._

_Can you deny it?_ Knives asked sardonically.

_Again, it's not my place to say. That's between you and her. But… I'm not gonna lie, I was really hoping you two would figure something out._

_We did. We're friends. And that's all._

_Alright… If that's what you want._

_It's what's best._


	22. Chapter 22

Knives sank gratefully into the bed when they retired, the excitement of the day having sapped what little energy he had. He fell asleep quickly, but it was far from peaceful. Nightmares plagued him, and even upon waking, panic refused to loosen its hold. Over and over, he had to reassure himself, to _prove_ to himself that it had really happened, that he had really escaped. He touched the blanket covering him, took deep breaths of the clean, fresh air, and listened to the sound of Vash's slow, steady breathing.

After a particularly affecting dream, he even went so far as to call out to his brother—an action he hadn't taken since they were children. He felt like a damn idiot the moment Vash's name left his lips, but when he heard the creak of the bed on the other side of the room a small wave of relief swept through him. A moment later the balance of his mattress tilted as Vash sat on the edge.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

"Yes… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have woken you."

"Don't worry about it. I've been up and down all night. I think my brain is too overloaded to rest," he said, and Knives could hear wry humor in his tone.

"I haven't been able to sleep either."

"Yeah, I figured… Is there anything I can do?"

"No—I'm fine. I just… wanted to make sure you were really here."

Vash chuckled. "Reminds me of when we were little, on the ship."

Knives grimaced. "I thought it might. I was sort of hoping you were asleep and hadn't heard me…"

"Why?"

Wasn't it obvious? "It's embarrassing, having sunk so low."

"What—wanting companionship and reassurance is 'sinking so low' to you?"

Well, when he said it like _that_. But truthfully… "Being afraid. Being afraid is low." He'd fought against fear his entire life… and now here he was, at its mercy again.

"Knives… it's okay to be afraid," Vash said, a trace of melancholy in his voice. "And it's okay to seek comfort. There's nothing wrong with that. I'd rather you come to me than try to handle it all by yourself. Sometimes the best thing you can do is to let it out."

Knives' lips curved in a half-smile. "Kira said something like that to me once…"

"Well if _Kira_ said it, maybe you'll actually listen."

"I listen to you," Knives protested.

Vash snorted. "Yeah. Sure. But," he said, becoming serious, "regardless, please don't hold back from reaching out if you need something. Anything. Even if it's just 'cause you're afraid. I'm your brother—it's what I'm here for."

Knives could picture the smile on his Vash's face so clearly. "Alright."

"So, is there anything you wanna talk about…?"

"No… I'm okay. Really," he insisted. "Anyway, we should probably try to get some sleep."

He felt a hand on his shoulder and Vash gave it a squeeze before rising and returning to his bed. It wasn't long before light snoring filled the room. Knives relaxed and let the familiar, comforting sound lull him back to sleep.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives awoke feeling surprisingly well rested. He couldn't hear Vash nearby and considered waiting for his brother to return and retrieve him, but the faint sound of voices drifting up from the rooms below and the smell of bacon cooking were enough motivation for him to venture out on his own.

He climbed from the bed and carefully made his way into the hall. He paused for a moment, wondering if there was any chance he'd be able to brush his teeth without help, but quickly realized he wasn't entirely sure where his toothbrush was… and if he found a toothbrush, there was a decent chance it would be someone else's. He began heading down the hall, trailing his hand lightly along the wall until he reached the stairs. He walked down them, counting as he went. Once he reached the bottom, he moved carefully through the small house, following Vash's chattering voice and the sound of crackling bacon. He brother greeted him with a cheerful 'good morning.'

"Perfect timing," Vash said, grabbing his arm and leading him to the table. "I just finished making breakfast. You hungry?"

"Yes, thanks." He sat down and heard a couple of dishes clink in front of him. He reached out tentatively and found a plate and a glass.

He heard a few more dishes clink down on the table before Vash spoke again. "Oh… uh… it's bacon, eggs and toast. There's orange juice in the glass. Your fork is on your right. Kira and Millie are running errands and should be back soon, but Meryl and Chronica are here."

"Actually, I'm just leaving," Meryl said lightly. "I need to call my producer on the sat-phone and let him know how my current project is going."

"What did you tell him you're working on?" Vash asked.

"The truth, actually. I told him I may have caught wind of a big story—something to do with the Federation—and that I'm going to need some time to look into it."

"You _do_ know that you can't say a word about the Reformation being a front until I have a better handle on the situation, right?" Chronica said derisively.

"Yes. I do," Meryl retorted. "But _you_ know that we need to bring this to light as quickly as we can so we can save the people being experimented on, _right_?"

Knives could almost feel the tension in the air and Vash let out a nervous chuckle. "I'm sure Chronica is moving as fast as she can. And Meryl knows better than to let something this galvanizing get out until we're _all_ ready… and she knows not to say a word about Knives…?" he finished with an upward inflection.

There was a sharp huff and the sound of a chair scraping across the floor, followed by stomping footsteps. "I'm not an idiot, Vash," Meryl snapped, fuming. The door to the back patio squeaked open and then slammed shut.

"… Shit. Uh, I'll be right back," Vash muttered, heading after his furious friend.

So now he was alone with Chronica, his enigmatic savior… Great. She _had_ rescued him, but he was almost certain she still despised him. A long silence stretched between them and Knives tried to focus on his eating food, a task in itself, but gradually his sense of obligation got the better of him. "May we speak?"

"We have nothing to discuss." Her voice was cold.

"Please."

She sighed and he heard the crinkle of a newspaper being set down. "What do you want?"

"First, I want to apologize for what I did to your friend."

"Domina."

"Yes… Domina. I want to apologize for what I did to Domina."

"And now you have," she said shortly.

She obviously didn't want to talk, but he needed to say it. "I also wanted thank you for saving me."

She let out a dismissive breath. "Let me be clear, because I don't want you to misunderstand what happened—I saved you because it was the right thing to do, and for no other reason. I couldn't let such a blatant abuse of power and disregard for ethics continue. But, beyond that, your well-being was the least of my concerns. I don't need or want your gratitude," she finished.

He sat there mutely, not really surprised by what she'd said, but also not entirely sure how to respond.

She quickly grew impatient. "Is that all?" she asked haughtily.

Was that all…? Yes, she _definitely_ despised him and she _clearly_ didn't want to socialize, but his curiosity was suddenly piqued. He'd be a fool to let this opportunity pass him by. He steeled himself and plunged forward. "I have questions—about our kind," he said firmly. "The tech I spoke to made it sound like my DNA was the key to whatever 'success' they've been having. He said that second generation independents are genetically modified?"

"Yes. And?"

"I'd like to know what they did to you."

She scoffed. "Why? So you can throw another tantrum?"

He clenched his jaw in an attempt to curb his rising temper before exhaling slowly. "You know what happened," he said. She had seen Tessla. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

There was silence and then she let out a small, irritated sigh. "Once they realized the magnitude of the gate's power, they decided that a limiter was needed. We cannot produce weapons like you, and we cannot merge with the angels."

He wrinkled his nose in confusion. "How did they know they needed these limitations?"

"Don't be dense," she spat. "Did you really think you were the first—the _only_ independent to merge? To rebel?"

"There were others?" he asked, astonished. The possibility that he wasn't the first truly hadn't occurred to him.

"Yes… although they make up a very small fraction of our population. Most of us enjoy living beside the humans. And none of our brethren were as stupid as you, managing to strand yourself on this barren rock."

This time he actually bit his cheek to hold in his instinctive verbal retort. He'd killed her friend. Her anger was justified. "So… how many of us are there?"

"Across the universe? I couldn't say. Our species is very young and is slow to develop. It takes a lot of energy for an angel to produce us."

"How many are here?"

"There are just over a hundred within our fleet."

He raised his eyebrows. Yes, it was 'few' compared to the number of humans travelling aboard the ships, but it still dwarfed the planet's previous population of two. "A hundred… And we have gender, obviously, unlike the angels," he murmured. His 'sisters' looked female, but it was in appearance only. They reproduced asexually. Growing up, he'd often wondered why he and Vash had been created with genitalia when there was no one around to create offspring with.

"Yes, we have gender, although females are far more common. Males make up about a quarter of the population."

How curious… She had said it took a lot of energy for an _angel_ to produce them. Maybe they were like mules—unable to have children, even amongst their own kind. "Can we reproduce?"

"We can, although it is rare. But it has happened."

"And we can't interbreed?" Vash was probably right, but he wanted to be sure.

"Not that I'm aware of."

He wondered vaguely about their sexuality and mating preferences. Assuming the majority was heterosexual, as with humans, how did they cope with the gender disparity? With so few males to propagate the species and the low fertility rate, were they polyamorous? Maybe they didn't worry about sustaining their race since they were so long-lived—or they counted on the angels to do it for them? And if so, then maybe… maybe they took human partners? Could they prolong human lives…? If there was a solution he wasn't aware of… "Do the independents in the Federation engage in monogamous relationships or—"

"For the most part. Why? Already tired of your _human_ female?" she said snidely.

His temper flared, once again. He wished she'd stop baiting him. "Do they ever have relationships _with_ humans?"

"Ah… I see." She chuckled lightly. "Yes, there are some who do."

His pulse quickened. "And? How do they make it work?"

"I couldn't say. I've never tried it. A relationship with a human always seemed too difficult."

His heart sank. Maybe they _hadn't_ worked it out… "Because of the aging?"

"Yes… I've never understood why someone would endure that pain. It doesn't seem a fair price for such a fleeting pleasure. Then again, I'm not exactly an expert. The Federation keeps me too busy for romance with either species. I've always preferred friendships. They're so much less demanding… Especially friends like Domina," she murmured softly. "She was my ideal—she required nothing from me. _She_ was always the wellspring of kindness and understanding. She gave so much of herself… and I took her for granted. Since she was a plant, I assumed she'd be around long after our human comrades had perished… And then _you_ happened."

"After you hijacked her, we tried to save her. We tried to bring her consciousness back, but as you continued your assault, information became of greater importance. We needed to connect with the angels. And she was our best chance. My friend. _I'm_ the one who told them to let her go. _I'm_ the one who chose to sacrifice her… and _you're_ the one who forced my hand," she finished sharply.

No wonder she hated him. He cringed internally when he thought back on some of the things he'd said to her when they first met. The excuses he'd given her… "Chronica, I truly am sor—"

"Don't bother," she bit out. "It's done. She's gone—just one more life for you to feel guilty for… if you even _can_ feel guilt. There was a surprising lack of it when I was in your head. Do the others know how little you regret the things you've done? How justified you _still_ consider your actions? I imagine they'd find it quite shocking. Appalling, even."

"You're wrong," he growled. "I _do_ feel guilt. I regret the things I did."

"Yes, but not as much as you should. You still hate humans, don't you," she said archly.

Knives felt his face burn from a combination of anger and shame. It was a question he didn't have an answer to. A part of him wanted to scream out 'yes—of course I hate the vile creatures that imprisoned me and tortured me!' but the thought of Kira prevented him from speaking.

"I thought so," she said scornfully. "Your friends may think you've changed, but I know better."

He scowled. "What about you? How do you feel about them?"

"I am ambivalent. They are too varied to assess as a group. There have been many that I've enjoyed, and some that I've hated. You and I can agree on one point, at least—they _do_ make for passionate lovers."

He frowned. "Wait… so you have…?"

"What? You think because I haven't been in a relationship with a human that I've never slept with one? Don't be so foolish. I would think _you_ of all people would understand the mechanics of a casual sex. Then again, you weren't very good at the 'casual' part, were you… Ah! Speaking of which."

Knives heard the door open and Millie's ever-sunny voice rang out as she made her way to them, presumably with Kira. "Good morning Knives, Chronica. Still working on breakfast, I see. Uh… Chronica, why is your plate on the other side of the table?"

The blond picked up her newspaper. "It _was_ Vash's, but he offended the reporter. I imagine he's about halfway through consoling her by now." Knives could hear the smirk in her voice.

He heard someone walk up beside him. "Hey, Knives. Uh… it's… me."

He couldn't help but smile a little at her discomfiture. It seemed he wasn't the only one learning how to deal with this situation. "Kira," he confirmed.

"Yeah." She sat down beside him. "So—you're on your own?"

"I guess. Until Vash gets back…"

"Um… it looks like you've mostly emptied that plate. Are you still hungry? I can get you more. Or is there anything else you'd like help with?"

Honestly, he _was_ still hungry, but he was also ready to be clean, and he doubted the strained civility between Chronica and him would last much longer. He couldn't take too many more of her barbs. "Actually, a bath would be nice."

He heard her clear his dishes away and he stood, holding his arm out. He heard a soft chuckle and her hand wrapped around his, gently tugging him forward.

x.x.x.x.x

She directed him to the correct toothbrush as the bath was filling. Once he was finished, she had him to sit on the closed toilet again. "I'm going to change your bandages," she explained before unwrapping them slowly. "This will probably sting," she warned as she pulled the last layer away.

He winced and slowly opened his eyes, despite the sharp pain it caused. He could make out a wash of light and vague shapes, but that was about it. Kira stepped in front of him, creating a shadowy patch.

"How's it look?" she said softly.

He shook his head. "Like a blur… How does it look to you?" he asked, legitimately curious.

She let out a slow breath. "Painful. Does it still hurt?"

"Yes, but less than it did." Even so, the pain was better when he kept his eyes closed. And the distorted vision was making him nauseous.

"I'll give you more painkillers after the bath. You should have another dose of antibiotics too."

He nodded.

"Do you… I mean… I can help you wash your hair if you want. If I'm not intruding, that is," she added hastily. "I just figured you wouldn't want to get water in your eyes and thought it might be easier with someone to scrub while you lean back…?"

He hesitated. Help _would_ be nice… And she'd most likely gotten a good look at his nude body the previous day, so they'd already crossed _that_ bridge. But, he was supposed to be pushing her away. It was one thing to accept her help with a few minor tasks; it was another to allow her to join him while he bathed… again. Maybe he should ask her to fetch Vash instead.

That was the 'right' thing to do…

Then again, she was already here. Maybe he was overthinking it.

"Yes, thanks," he said, trying to sound indifferent. The least he could do was try to mask his anticipation.

"I'll wait in the hall while you wash. Just let me know when you're ready and I'll come back in. Oh! And everything is in the same place as last time."

He reached out carefully to locate the bathing supplies. "Got it."

"I won't be far," she said lightly.

He heard the door click shut and began stripping his clothes, careful not to bump the small stand beside the tub. Once he was bare, he climbed into the hot water and sank down with a sigh. He reached very slowly for the soap and washcloth, not wanting a repeat of the previous day, and began scrubbing himself with vigor. As pathetic as it was, bathing still felt like an extravagance. It didn't take long before he was delightfully clean.

And now… His heart rate picked up slightly. "Kira," he called out.

The door opened and shut, and he heard her approach the tub. "Hm… How to do this…" She paused. "Can you scoot forward and tip your head back so we can get your hair wet?"

He did as she instructed and felt her arm go around his shoulders, supporting him. "Okay… lean back… a little more…" With her other hand, she began scooping water over his head and running her fingers through his hair. She snorted. "You and your brother really do have the wildest hair. It doesn't obey the laws of gravity at all, does it," she said with a laugh. He smiled and she lifted him out of the water slightly. "Do you think you can hold yourself up and keep your head tipped back like that while I lather?"

"Yes." He braced himself against the tub, supporting his weight. She removed her arm from his shoulders and a moment later her fingers began lightly kneading and scraping along his scalp, sending tingling shivers of pleasure down his spine. Without meaning to, he let out a soft moan. Heat instantly flooded his cheeks and he guessed he was sporting a fairly bright blush. Oh well… too late now. Might as well go with it. "You're good at this," he murmured, a crooked grin curving his lips. This was definitely better than having Vash do it…

She let out a soft snicker, her fingers continuing their tantalizing work. She stopped and he felt her arm around his shoulders again. "Lean back…" She once again dipped his head back, scooping handfuls of water into his hair and running her fingers through it, rinsing it. He luxuriated in the sensations and sulked internally when she finished. "Sit up a little more but keep your head back. I'll try to dry it so it doesn't drip in your eyes."

He complied and she began gently pressing a towel against his head, wringing the excess water from his hair. He let out a satisfied sigh.

"All done," she said brightly.

"Thanks again," he replied, straightening up. His hair flopped forward over his face, and Kira chuckled, pushing it back, only to have it flop forward again. "It's no use," he said with a smirk. "It does what it wants."

"I can see why you kept it short," she said, her tone amused. She ran her fingers through it again, her hand coming to rest for a moment before suddenly pulling away. "Um… is there anything else you need?" she muttered awkwardly, standing.

What the hell just happened?

"No. I'm fine."

"Alright. Do you want me to grab some clothes for you?"

"Yes."

"Uh… great," she said stiffly. "Let me know when you're ready."

He nodded, puzzled, and heard her retreat quickly into the hallway. Shit.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira let out an anxious breath once she was out of earshot of Knives and trotted to the bedroom to grab his clothes and medications. Her heart was fluttering in her chest. That had been… interesting.

Damn…

She had started with the best intentions, but the situation had gotten away from her a bit. After their previous conversation, she assumed they were going to remain solidly in platonic territory—after all, she 'had no future here.' The message was pretty clear. But that had felt _anything_ but platonic.

On the bright side, he was acting more like himself today… or more like the less-cynical side of himself, at least. His eyes looked a lot better too, although they were still a grisly visage. At least it sounded like he had _some_ visual perception. That would make things a little easier for him once the bandages came off for good. They'd just have to wait and see. With his superhuman healing, she still hoped there was a chance his sight would improve. If not, they'd figure something out, or at least help him cope.

She returned to the bathroom with an armful of clothes and handed the bundle to him, making sure to keep her eyes averted before stepping back out. He opened the door a couple of minutes later. "Is everything on correctly?" he said diffidently.

"Yeah. You look good." She made him sit again while she bandaged his eyes and then handed him the pills along with a cup of water. Once he'd taken them, she tugged him lightly to his feet. "So, back downstairs?"

"Yes."

She took his hand but he held back with a slightly uncomfortable expression.

"I think it might be easier if I hang on to you," he said, extending his hand. "That way I can feel you move and turn. Being pulled along is rather disorienting."

"Oh… uh… sure." She put his hand on her arm and led him back to the dining room where Vash was sitting alone, wolfing down a plateful of most likely cold eggs.

"Did you get everything worked out with Meryl," Kira asked, note of sympathy in her voice. Things had been less-than-pleasant between the pair lately. Their relationship was complicated enough before, and a month and a half of living together had only amplified the pent-up tension between them. The result was an exceptionally fiery Meryl and a doubly apologetic Vash.

The aqua-eyed plant grimaced. "Kinda. So… bath time again?" he said, raising a brow at Kira who went pink in response.

Knives scowled. "She offered to help and I accepted. Maybe if you hadn't disappeared on me…"

Vash stared down at the remainder of his eggs guiltily. "Sorry about that," he muttered.

Knives' face softened. "It's fine."

"The others are out back," Vash said, setting his fork on his plate. "If you're up for it, there are still some things we all need to discuss."

Knives put on his most reluctant expression but nodded. Vash led the way and Kira followed with Knives in tow. Millie seemed to be in the middle of a very animated story when they stepped outside. She paused and the other two women looked up as the newcomers sat in the empty seats around the weatherworn table.

Vash cleared his throat and began, "Sorry to interrupt, but we should probably go over a few things. I know there's a lot of uncertainty about what we're doing and how we'll move forward, and I know everyone has different opinions about how best to proceed, so I thought it might be a good idea to… uh… talk it out," he said, a fake smile plastered across his face. The women stared at him in silence and he rubbed the back of his neck absently. "Anyway, I guess I'll start. My main priority is to keep Knives safe. I think the best way to do that is to keep him hidden as much as possible. I'd prefer if everyone stays quiet about his existence unless I give the go ahead."

Meryl shot him an irritated glare. "I _agree_ with Vash that the best thing to do for Knives is not tell anyone about him. However, we also need to stop the illegal experimentation. I think it would be a good idea to at least let _someone_ know about that—just in case we all get captured… or worse."

"I can send word to a few of my affiliates," Chronica said. "I am certain we can trust them."

"No offense, but I'd prefer to use someone _outside_ of the Federation for this task," Meryl said tersely.

Chronica narrowed her eyes.

"Uh… let's come back to this," Vash tittered nervously, cutting in. "For now, I think the plan is to wait here and gather more information while Knives heals. Do we all agree on that part?"

There was a half-hearted consensus.

"Great," he continued. "Once he's doing a little better I'd like to get his collar off. Our best option is probably the Melca Border ship—"

"You cannot be serious," Knives growled.

Vash cast a sympathetic look at his brother. "I understand why you don't want to return, but if we explain everything to Luida, I'm sure she would—"

"No." He slammed his fist on the table. "I will not go back to that ship!"

"Knives, calm down," he said gently.

"No!" he shouted. "Have you forgotten who it was that delivered me into the Federation's hands!"

"I understand… just calm down…"

Knives stood up, knocking his chair over in the process. "No! S-stop saying that!" he snarled.

A weighty silence hung in the air. Vash tossed a glance to Kira.

"Hey," she said quietly, rising from her seat, "do you want to take a walk with me?" She put a hand on Knives' arm, but he pulled it away roughly.

"Knives—it's okay," Vash said, putting a hand his brother's other arm.

"Get off of me!" Knives tore his arm away and took a step back, tripping over the chair and falling to the ground. He sat for a moment, stunned while Vash knelt beside him. "Please," he ground out. "Don't."

Vash gave Kira a questioning look and she nodded. He sighed and picked up the chair, righting it and leaving Knives where he was, walking to the door instead. "Come on," he said, to the rest of the troupe, "let's go inside."

Kira watched them leave, her heart heavy. She looked down at Knives on the ground in front of her, and sat beside him. He lifted his head at the sound.

"Kira?"

"Yes…"

He lowered his head again. Kira stared out into the desert, her mind drifting. She could just make out the glint of Octovern's great glass sphere on the horizon. It was so close… too close. If the Federation somehow found out where they were staying, they could arrive in an hour. Once Knives was back on his feet, they needed to leave. They needed more separation. They needed protection. They needed a lot of things, most of which could be found back on the damn floating ship…

Kira didn't particularly like Luida, but if Vash thought they could trust her, she'd believe him. Of course, convincing Knives would be damn near impossible. How could they make him understand? They didn't have many options. She wondered what he'd do if he ever found out about Meryl…

The sound of movement drew her attention as Knives shifted and stood.

"Kira…"

"Yup."

He held out his hand. She put it around her arm and he sighed. "You mentioned a walk?"

She smiled. "Alright." She began moving over the sand at an easy pace with him trailing just behind her.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I shouldn't have overreacted like that."

"It's going to be rough, you know… for everyone. This isn't a situation any of us wants to be in. I think the best way to deal with it will be to cut each other some slack. It's okay to get angry or upset, but we need to be able to work through it—to find a way past it. We shouldn't waste our energy fighting amongst ourselves."

"You're right… I know you are, but… it's difficult."

"I know. Look, today was just a discussion of what our options are. We need to lay everything out so we can start planning. But our biggest priority is keeping you safe."

"And you think Luida can do that?"

"Maybe… Vash knows her better than I do."

He nodded sullenly.

"Don't worry—no one's going to force you to go if you don't want to. But… I hope you'll at least consider it as an option. Unless we can think of something better."

He scowled. "I'd rather live with the fucking collar…"

She snorted. "Glad to see you've got your priorities straight."

He let out a weary sigh. "Did Vash look upset when I yelled at him?"

She put her hand on his. "He understands."

"I should apologize…"

She stopped. "You want to head back?"

He seemed to be thinking and then a curious smile played across his lips and he tightened his hand ever so slightly around her arm. "In a little while…"


	23. Chapter 23

Sunlight beamed through the window as Kira stared listlessly out over the horizon. She was bored. The house was clean, the fridge was stocked, and no errands needed to be run. It had been a little over a week since Knives had awoken, and their situation had stalled. Laying low was surprisingly tedious. She missed having an actual job to get done. If they stayed here much longer, she was half-tempted to look for work.

Chronica was on the sat-phone most days with a handful of associates stationed across the planet. Most of her energy was directed toward gathering and distributing intel from her former commander, who had agreed to run a covert investigation in Octovern. If they could collect proof of Garrow's crimes and verify that he had acted on his own authority, it would be easy to swoop in and arrest him and the scientists under his command.

Unfortunately, Garrow wasn't an idiot. He was keeping things even more locked down than usual. The guard that Chronica had made use of to get into the criminal facility was now missing in action, although whether he'd abandoned his post of his own accord or if the captain had discovered his betrayal and had him 'removed' was anyone's guess. There was no doubt that Garrow would do whatever was necessary to keep the experiments secret. He might even go so far as to tank the entire operation to save his own skin.

Regardless, all they could do for now was to be patient and wait for the information to come in.

With the slow progress, Meryl was growing impatient. She kept silent, as promised, but being forced to sit idly by while an unknown number of people were being used and disposed of was weighing on her. After conferring with the others, she had grudgingly agreed to trust Panse with the knowledge of the experimentation. Despite the fact that he was technically part of the Federation, he had enough integrity and diplomacy to handle the situation with the care that would be required, and his position on the floating ship was ideal. It gave him distance and protection, and, if it came down to a military action, Luida's forces were some of the strongest on the planet.

Aside from that, she and Millie had regular contact with their station manager, who was also growing increasingly impatient on the slow progress of her new 'story.' If they didn't turn _something_ in soon, there would be hell to pay.

Vash had once again taken charge of caring for his brother after the unintentionally flirtatious hair washing, and Kira was grateful. _That_ incident was confusing enough, and Knives had been sending nothing but mixed signals since then. This was simpler, and simpler was better. Knives had begun to develop new techniques to compensate for his lack of sight as well. He was becoming more and more self-reliant each day. He had apologized after his outburst about the Melca Border ship and although the brothers still quarreled frequently, it was clear they were glad to be reunited again. The main point of contention between them was what to do next.

Knives was doing much better physically, and although his sight hadn't improved, his eyes were almost fully healed. It was time to move, but he seemed reluctant to make to a decisive plan. The only thing he stayed firm on was his refusal to return to the Melca Border ship, and since the only other doctors who might have the technology and training to remove his collar were part of the Federation, it seemed increasingly unlikely that it would be coming off anytime soon.

Kira sighed and stepped away from the window. She supposed she should be grateful for the peace and quiet. She doubted the lull wouldn't last for much longer and then they'd be thrown into chaos again. She should try to enjoy it while she could, like the others were doing. Chronica was reclined on the couch, reading, and Meryl and Millie were playing cards at the table. Kira sauntered across the room and peeked into the kitchen where the brothers were softly bickering.

"I told you to dice the ham," Knives said tersely, holding a mixing bowl with one hand and an offending a piece of meat between the fingers of the other.

"I did!" Vash responded with equal irritation.

"No, you _chopped_ it," he said, setting the meat down and returning to whisking the mixture in the bowl.

"Dicing _is_ chopping," Vash retorted.

"Yes, but _chopping_ is not _dicing_. These pieces are too big."

Vash let out a frustrated groan and Kira couldn't help but smile before clearing her throat, alerting them to her presence.

Knives whirled around, sloshing a little of the egg mixture onto himself, and swore.

"Oh shit—sorry!" she said with a guilty grimace. "I swear I wasn't trying to scare you." She wetted a dishrag and began dabbing his shirt.

"It's fine," he murmured, his eyes staring vaguely in her direction. They'd taken his bandages off the day before and Kira hadn't quite adjusted to the sight of them. From a distance they looked almost normal, but up close, the horizontal scarring across them and the slightly misshapen pupils were a constant reminder of the injury. She finished up and he went back to whisking, turning to Vash who was cutting with mild petulance. "Okay, is the ham diced?"

"Yessir!" Vash said officiously, saluting and winking at Kira.

Knives only scowled. "Does this look light and frothy to you?" he asked, handing the bowl to Vash.

"Uh… yes?"

The blind plant huffed in annoyance. "Spread the ham and the cheese over the bottom of the crust, then pour the eggs over top and put it in the oven," he said, looking beleaguered.

"What are you making?" Kira asked.

"We're _trying_ to make quiche."

"Ambitious!"

"I guess," he said, going slightly pink. "We'll see how it turns out…"

Vash caught Kira's eyes and pointed his finger at Knives' rosy cheeks, grinning widely. Knives wrinkled his nose and smacked the finger away. "H-how did you…?" Vash sputtered.

"You smell like ham, moron," he snapped before turning back to Kira. "Would you like a glass of water?" he said, with an impish smirk.

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure…?"

He made his way carefully across the kitchen, fetching a glass, and then turned the tap on and began filling it with his index finger hanging over the edge. Once the water reached his finger, he pulled the glass away and turned the tap off before holding it out to her with a very self-satisfied smile.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Could you at least wash your hands before putting your finger into my drink?" she teased.

"Oh, come on. I thought that was pretty good," he said, looking slightly sheepish.

"Okay, that was impressive. You're really starting to get the hang of things." She felt a swell of pride in her chest.

"Well, I'd rather not be completely dependent on you and Vash," he said in such a pragmatic tone, she almost laughed again. "And it doesn't seem like my sight will be returning anytime soon. I might as well get used to it."

"She's right—you _are_ doing really well. Maybe it's time to decide where to go next…?" Vash prodded. Kira almost winced at his less-than-subtle approach. "I mean, now that the risk of infection has passed, it'll be a lot easier to travel."

A crease appeared between Knives' brows. "I'd rather stay here…"

"You know we can't do that," Vash said with barely contained irritation at his brother's persistent refusal to face the facts. "Look, we know they're hunting for us. It's only a matter of time before they check this town. We need to put more distance between the Federation and us. I know you don't want to go to floating ship, but maybe we could stay in one of the towns near it and I could bring the doc to you? I've known him his entire life—I promise he wouldn't say anything! Or if you really don't want to, we could head toward one of the other cities? Or… anywhere! What about Augusta…?"

The crease deepened and Knives turned away. "Kira, would you like to go for a walk?" he said in obvious dismissal of the conversation.

She cast a glance at Vash and he gave her a weary shrug. "Yeah, sure," she muttered, taking the vexing plant's arm.

x.x.x.x.x

They took walks like this frequently. Knives enjoyed the fresh air, and he was always happy to get away from the crowded house… and from Vash's constant badgering. Being out here alone with Kira reminded him of their time travelling together. It was soothing. Comforting… Well, usually.

Unfortunately, she was pissed right now. Her swift pace, the stiffness in her movements and her silence gave her away. He sighed heavily, staring at her shadowy figure, which broke up the blurred wash of beige sand.

"Everything okay?" she said brusquely.

Yup. Pissed. "I _am_ a bit distressed, but I'll manage," he said, his excessively plaintive tone betrayed by the faint smirk that curved his lips.

She growled. "Ass. Would you mind not using me as a scapegoat next time you don't feel like dealing with something?"

His smiled deepened. "What? Isn't this nice?" he asked, his fingers resting lightly against her arm. Yes, he enjoyed this quite a lot…

"Oh, it's lovely," she said sarcastically, "but unfortunately there are more important matters we should probably attend to."

He sighed again, his smile falling, and fell silent.

"… Why don't you want to leave? I figured you'd want to get as far away from the Federation as possible."

"It doesn't matter where we go—they'll still be there. They can travel as easily as we can… And I'm finally getting sense of this place." He was hesitant to give up the small amount of independence he'd gained. Half of it came from learning the location. If they went somewhere new, he'd have to start all over again.

"I see… We can't stay here forever, you know," she said softly.

"… I know."

"So what do you want to do?"

"I'm not sure." What he wanted to do could never happen… and the options that remained weren't exactly appealing. The only way to stay safe was to run. Forever. It was… daunting. Kira shifted in front of him, walking around something, and he followed her lead.

Just as she followed his…

An all-too-familiar wave of guilt swept through him, driving him to speak. "This isn't going to end, you know. Even if we manage to stop Garrow, I'll have to keep moving."

"I guess," she said absently.

He frowned. He'd been swaying like a pendulum between wanting her to stay and wanting her to go. He had made a couple more half-hearted attempts to encourage her to leave and was secretly thrilled each time she shrugged his words off. But his resolve was once again strengthened. He couldn't drag her from place to place just because he liked having her near.

She needed to understand. "What I'm trying to say is that… you're staying with me until I'm 'safe,' right?"

"Yes…?"

"But I won't ever be safe. Not really…" She had embarked on an impossible mission. If he could just make her see it…

"Then I suppose that means I'm never going to leave you," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He nearly stumbled. "N-no… that's not…" If only. How he wished her words were true. "You _will_ leave me… someday," he murmured.

She froze and he immediately cringed. Had he said that out loud? "You mean when I…" She trailed off. "Right. Of course… So that's why…"

Shit. She knew. She knew the full meaning of what he'd said. She understood the barrier it created between them. She understood that _this_ was part of the reason he'd been pushing her away.

She sounded so hurt.

But he was doing it _for_ her! Maybe, if he explained… "It's not that I want you to leave, I just don't want you to waste time on—"

"You're right. It would be stupid for me to waste my incredibly short life with you, wouldn't it," she snapped and he felt her turn. "I think we'd better head back. I don't feel like walking anymore…"

"Kira—"

"Can we just… not talk, for a bit?"

"But—"

"Please." She sighed. "I understand—really," she said, her voice gentler. "It's fine, I just… I don't feel like talking right now."

Fuck. So much for a 'soothing' walk.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira's mind whirred as they made their way slowly back to the house. She was an idiot. How could she have been so obtuse! It wasn't like she had forgotten about the difference in aging between them, but it seemed like such a distant problem compared to everything that was going on right now. Wasn't it something they could deal with later? Did it even matter? After all, they weren't even together.

Then again, she had just offered to stay with him forever. There was definitely an implication there…

That _was_ what he meant, right? He 'didn't want her to waste her time' because they would never be involved romantically? He had already decided that it was too big an issue to overcome, and this was his way of telling her. Still. It seemed a bit preemptive.

So far they were… flirting. At most.

Okay, _maybe_ there was an undercurrent… Fine. There was _definitely_ an undercurrent, pushing them toward something deeper.

She couldn't deny, a part of her wanted to give in to that current, to follow that path wherever it might lead, but… clearly Knives didn't.

Maybe that was why it hurt so much. He'd essentially just rejected her, in an oblique way. She almost laughed at how twisted all of this was. Millions Knives, the person she should technically hate, who had destroyed her life, had rejected her. In advance. Before she even had a chance to make a move.

Dammit. She was an idiot.

And Knives…

Honestly, this was probably as hard on him as it was on her. She knew he cared for her. The longer they were together, the more it would hurt when they had to part… and if he was certain that separating was the only option… if he was convinced that neither friendship nor romance would work between them… then… "Do you really want me to leave?"

She felt his hand tighten. "I… I want you to be happy. And safe. And to have a future."

"And… I can't have that with you?"

He exhaled sharply. "I… I'm not… I don't…"

"Listen—if it's really what you want, I'll do it." The words came out sluggishly. "I'd like to stay with you, but if you think it'd make things… easier… I won't fight you on it. And no matter what happens, I'll be here if you need me. For as long as I can be. So… tell me. Do you really want me to go?"

"Kira…" His voice was thick. "I—"

"There you are!" Livio came striding around the side of the house, an easy grin on his face. "I've been looking for you."

Kira's eyes widened. Livio stopped by most evenings to socialize with Vash and the girls, but he was usually busy at the orphanage during the day. "What brings you here?" she asked in surprise.

"You mentioned you were thinking about looking for work, right? The guy who runs the inn and tavern stopped by and asked if he could hire a few of our kids. I guess there's a caravan of traders who came into town and his place is swamped so he needs some extra help. You'd probably be waiting tables, and maybe cleaning rooms—that kind of thing. Our oldest kids are still a little too young for that, but I told him I'd speak to you about it. It'd only be for a few days—just until these guys finish selling their wares and move on. What do you think?"

"That sounds great. Uh…" She glanced back at Knives who was frowning slightly. "When does he want me to start?"

"Right now, if you can. I can give you a ride there and back."

"Knives…"

"It's fine." He gave her a weak smile. "Go."

She turned back to Livio. "Let me talk to Vash. I'm sure I can at least help out for today."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira left Knives in the living room and ran off to speak with his brother. A couple of minutes later, she trotted past and the door slammed shut behind her. He stood dazedly, all but oblivious to the faint sound of chatting and laughter emanating from the kitchen; his mind currently occupied replaying the events that had just transpired.

He was actually relieved that they'd been interrupted. There was only one thing he could have said to her. But this time, she'd actually listen to him. Shit.

"Um… Knives? Are you okay?" said a voice nearby startled him.

Millie. It was strange that such a high register came from such a gigantic woman. "Where's Vash?"

"He and Meryl are doing the dishes, I think. Is there anything you need?" she asked, and he could detect a note of concern.

He probably looked like hell. He certainly felt like it… a consequence of the anxiety roiling within him. He wanted to lie down and could probably find his way to the bedroom on his own. "Could you tell him I'm upstairs when you see him?"

"Will do."

He cast a quick nod of thanks in her direction before trudging up the stairs and down the hall, his feet leaden. He slumped into bed and tried to wade through his thoughts. This was good. This was for the best. All he had to do was let her know he was serious—to send her away, one more time. He could do that. It was such a small task.

Then she'd be gone.

Knives flipped onto his back and stared at the white blur that was the ceiling. He began running his fingers unconsciously over the scars on his arm as he fell deeply into contemplation. A series of resolute choices, quickly followed by doubt and misgivings, played through his mind, thoroughly undermining any decision he could possibly make. He was so caught up in his circling thoughts that he didn't even hear the approaching footsteps.

"How was your walk," Vash said flatly as he entered the room. He was pissed, understandably.

Still, Knives needed to vent some of his inner turmoil. "I asked Kira to leave again. I kind of let it slip that it was because her life is so short and that she shouldn't waste time with me. So she asked if that was really what I wanted and said that the next time I ask her to leave, she won't argue…"

There was a beat of silence and then Vash snorted. "You know, I'm not sure why, but I always sort of assumed you'd be suave when it came to women, if you ever bothered with them, of course, but… that's just… so dumb."

Knives scowled. "Thanks for understanding," he muttered.

"Well what the hell were you thinking? You told her to leave because of her lifespan, and obviously I understand what you meant, but _she_ probably doesn't. You probably really hurt her feelings! I mean, couldn't you have been a little more indirect? To flat out admit you don't want her because she's gonna die is just—"

"That's not true! That's not…" He clenched his jaw. "And it's not like I said that _exactly_! It was… implied. Sort of. I don't know, it just… came out. And anyway, _you're_ the one who told me it wouldn't work!"

"What do I know? I mean, it's not like I have _that_ much experience. Besides, look how well it's working for me. Meryl's about ready to break my arm if I don't make a move, and it's getting harder and harder not to do it."

Knives exhaled slowly. "Maybe it's for the best. It's just… now I have to tell her to leave, knowing that she'll actually fucking do it." He sat up and crossed his arms over his knees, his mouth twisting in a fretful grimace. "What the hell am I going to do?"

"Uh… you're going to tell her to leave. Right?"

"And then what…?"

"Focus on where the hell you want us to go next. Live your life. Help stop Garrow." The bed shifted as Vash sat beside him. "Or, you could take back what you said, apologize, and try to make it work with her. Just see how it goes. Chronica said others have done it, right?"

"Yes, but she wasn't exactly detailed as to _how_."

"I have a feeling the _how_ will be different for everyone."

Knives sighed. "I've always been selfish… even when we were little… even before Tessla. I acted without thinking. I did things without worrying about how they might affect other people. What if this is one of those things? What if I ask her to be with me, and she stays, and then in ten years she changes her mind?"

"Then you'll both move on, and that'll be the end of it."

"But that's such a large portion of her life! And I could have prevented it. I _can_ prevent it—right now. But… I don't want to let her go…"

"Look, why don't you take a few days to think it over, and if you still want to go through with it, you can end it when we leave town. It might be simpler for both of you that way. She can stay here with Livio, or maybe go to Octovern. She could probably even get her job back."

"I suppose that _would_ be simpler."

"And, on the bright side, it sounds like she'll be out of the house for the most part, so you'll have plenty of space to think!"

Knives quirked a brow at his brother's misplaced enthusiasm. Then again, he was probably right. A little distance might help to clarify things. Maybe if he got used to being away from her, the idea of not having her near wouldn't be quite so disheartening.

x.x.x.x.x

And so, he kept his distance. She had only returned to the house to eat dinner and sleep, so it was very easy to do. On top of that, she hadn't said a word to him since their conversation two days ago.

Which was… fine. Perfectly fine.

It gave him a chance to fully ponder the decision in front of him. And maybe it did the same for her. After all, it wasn't only _his_ future this choice would affect. Maybe she'd save him the trouble and decide to leave on her own.

The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn't feel like pondering anymore…

"Okay… king to d2," Vash said.

At least he had a distraction.

Knives saw the piece move in his mind. The twins had first encountered chess on the ship, and they'd quickly realized that they didn't actually need a board to play. They could simply visualize it. And _this_ game was very nearly at an end. "Queen to f2," he said confidently. "Check."

"Hm… king to c3."

"Queen to d4. Check." Vash could technically get out of it, but the move meant a nearly certain victory for Knives.

Vash groaned, realizing the same thing. "Shit. Fine. I concede."

Knives grinned. Although he probably won more often than Vash, it was always a challenge. His brother was much smarter than he let on. This was one of the few pastimes they had always enjoyed together. The victory was satisfying, but now he was left with his thoughts again. The traders were planning on leaving the following day, which meant it was time for a decision, but he was still at an impasse.

And he still didn't feel like thinking about it.

He was about to ask Vash to play another round so he could procrastinate for a little longer when he heard a car pull up outside. He frowned. The daylight was fairly bright—it was too early for Kira to return home.

Livio's voice cut through the air. "Hey! Stop whatever you're doing and pack your things!"

"What's going on?" Vash said, jumping up.

"There's some soldiers going through town, questioning everyone. You guys gotta go, now!"

Vash swore. "Okay… everyone, grab your bags. Livio, can you take Knives out to Meryl's car—it's the red one."

"Yeah."

Knives felt an arm on his and Livio led him forward and shoved him into one of the cars. He could hear the others tossing their bags in the trunk before climbing in themselves. A sudden realization struck him. "Where's Kira?" he called out. Had she come with Livio? He couldn't hear her voice.

"I didn't see her before I came. She's probably still in town."

Knives heart began pounding. "We have to go get her."

"No," Livio said firmly. "There are soldiers all over the place. You'd be spotted immediately. Don't worry—she'll be fine. They're not looking for her. Have any of you heard of Cliffside? About an hour straight north?"

"Yeah—I know it," Vash answered quickly.

"If you want, I'll find her and we can meet up there."

"Knives…?" Vash asked tentatively.

"Yes. Do it." The words spilled out before he even had time to think. He couldn't leave her like this. He had to know she was safe.

"Alright. If we don't show up in a few days, then leave. Got it?"

"Yeah," Vash said softly. "We got it."

They all said their quick goodbyes and the two cars lurched forward, kicking up clouds of sand as they sped off into the desert, Vash, Knives and Meryl in one and Chronica and Millie following close behind.

Knives stared out at the oddly morphing blur of colors, a deep ache settling in his chest as he tried and failed to convince himself that she'd be okay.


	24. Chapter 24

Knives spent most of the hour-long drive trying to reign in his anxiety, but it was a pointless endeavor. No matter how many times he told himself that Livio was right—that Garrow's men weren't looking for Kira—he couldn't dispel his fears entirely. After all, even though the house they'd been staying at was supposedly isolated enough that their residency would go unnoticed, there was no guarantee. And she had made several trips into town while they were there. If the villagers mentioned her—the mysterious new arrival, the stranger, the outsider—the soldiers would surely want to question her.

And if they learned that she'd appeared around the same time Knives had escaped…

A knot formed in his stomach at the thought of what Garrow would do to her. If the captain even remotely suspected she was affiliated with Knives, he'd torture her. And there'd be no one to stop him. If he found out she was his ally… Or worse—if he realized that she was the woman who'd saved him in Delnashville…

Knives tried not to think about it but his mind refused to obey.

The fucking bastard liked pain. If he discovered who she was, he'd take his revenge on her. He'd kill her slowly… or maybe he'd keep her alive… to use as a bargaining chip… to play with…

Or maybe she would become another nameless test subject—stripped of her identity and strapped to a chair, murdered and immediately forgotten. As if she were no one. As if she meant nothing…

Knives felt sick, his heart thudding dully in his chest, as the nightmarish possibilities continued to torment him.

"So this is Cliffside…? I can see why Livio recommended this place," Meryl said flatly, her voice a very welcome distraction from his unwanted meditation. "It's so quiet. Do you think it's abandoned?"

"Kinda looks that way," Vash replied, sounding equally unimpressed. "What are we going to do about water?"

"Mirada's a pretty big town. It's not too far from here. If the taps don't work I'm sure Millie wouldn't mind making a trip to get some tanks for us. Where should we stay?"

"It's not like there are a lot of options… The big house?"

"Should we just knock on the door?"

"I guess."

"And if we're wrong and someone actually lives there?"

"Then we sign some autographs," Vash said with almost childish amusement. "Maybe they'll even be starstruck enough to make us dinner!"

Knives heard what might have been a shove, probably from Meryl, followed by Vash chuckling.

"Nitwit," she groused, but her levity was clear. The car came to a halt and Knives heard the second car pull up beside them. "Alright—you two stay in here. I'll check it out." Meryl's door opened and he faintly heard her explaining the situation to the others.

"Hey. How are you doing back there?" Vash asked gently. "You're been awfully quiet."

"… We left her," he murmured, his voice hollow. "_I_ left her."

"It's the best thing we could have done. If we went to get her, they would have spotted us and she'd be in a worse position than she is now. They aren't looking for her. I'm sure she'll stay under their radar until she can sneak away unnoticed. And she's got Livio. She'll be fine."

"And if she's not?" he barked, his anger flaring, though most of it was directed at himself.

"Then we'll go after her, like we did for you. We'd never abandon her—you know that."

"It feels like we already did," he said bitterly. Vash went silent and Knives knew his words had stung. "Sorry," he mumbled. "None of this is your fault…"

"It's not yours either," Vash said softly and Knives felt something wrench in his chest.

"You're wrong. It _is_ my fault. All of it! I brought this on myself, and now I've forced it on the rest of you. I made my choices and I deserve to pay for them, but _she_ doesn't. You don't. None of you do."

Vash responded slowly, as if pondering each word before he said it. "Knives, we made our choices too. We knew what we were getting into, so don't try to take all the blame. We know what you did. We know who you are. And we all decided that you've paid enough for your crimes and you deserve another chance. Don't undermine what we're doing or the sacrifices we're making by acting like we don't have a choice."

This time, it was Knives who was struck silent. He hadn't thought of it like that…

Before he could speak again, the door opened. "The house is empty," Meryl called out cheerfully, grabbing the keys from the ignition. "It's been ransacked, but the bigger furniture is still there. And the plumbing works! It looks like there's an underground cistern in the back. They must have stored some water in case of emergencies. We should probably boil it before we drink it, but it smells clean enough."

They collected their bags and made their way inside with Vash leading Knives. The walk through the house was accompanied by a descriptive commentary from the aqua-eyed plant, interspersed with occasional remarks from the three women. They settled into the four empty bedrooms, with the brothers agreeing to share one, and unpacked. Once they were finished, they began picking up the previous homeowners possessions, which had been scattered about the place.

Since he could see little in the shadowy house and therefore wouldn't be much help, Knives was left alone with his merciless thoughts.

Vash was right—this was the best move. And Kira had known the danger she was facing. She had _chosen_ to stay. He repeated it over and over, but as the minutes crept by, he grew more and more furious with himself. If he hadn't been so resistant to leaving, they wouldn't have been taken by surprise. She wouldn't have been in town, biding her time, while he made up his fucking mind about what to do next.

If the Federation caught her, it _was_ his fault—for hesitating! For being too scared to move. To fight.

When had he become like this? This wasn't who he was. He _never_ hesitated to act. He was _never_ one to shy away or to give in, even if the odds were stacked against him. He took on the entire _human_ _race_ for fuck's sake! How could he let himself be reduced to _this_? To let his fear control him?

He needed to stop being such a damn coward… about a lot of things. Once Kira was safely returned, it was time to make a move, in more ways than one. And if she wasn't safely returned…? If she was hurt, or killed, Knives would get the damn collar off, he would fix his fucking eyes, and he would rain hell down on Garrow and his pathetic little empire.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives' emotional state swung back and forth between furious resolve and near panic as the day turned to night, and night to morning. By the following afternoon, his anxiety had reached a critical level. Where the hell was she?

The others chatted quietly as he paced across the living room, his heart leaping at every errant sound, as he listened for the gentle whir of wheels on sand. His new mantra was that she was too smart get caught. He repeated it over and over. She'd be there any minute. He just needed to be patient.

A sudden possibility struck him and he froze mid-stride. Maybe she had decided to part ways, and Livio didn't want to make the trip to tell them?

No. No, he wouldn't do that.

Knives began pacing again. He had learned more about Livio in the last couple of weeks than he had in all the years the man had spent under his command. Livio was surprisingly honorable… or maybe he'd _become_ honorable. Either way, his life was now dedicated to helping others as a sort of penance for the things he'd done.

If he was being honest, Knives found the man's transformation a little intimidating. Was that what _he_ was expected to do? Maybe he hadn't 'paid enough' for his crimes after all. How the hell could he ever make up for the pain he'd caused? Where would he even start…?

He let out a heavy breath and pushed it from his mind. There was too much going on to worry about that right now. All that mattered was getting Kira back…

The sound of a car pulling up abruptly ended his ruminations and set his heart drumming. Was she here? She must be.

"Come on," Vash said, offering an arm.

Knives grabbed on and his brother brought him outside with the others trailing behind them. He could vaguely see the dark truck against the pale sand and two shadowy figures moving toward them. Kira's voice rang out in greeting and he could suddenly breathe again. She was safe. He'd never felt so relieved in his life.

"Kira," he called out softly, dropping Vash's arm and taking a couple steps forward.

"I'm here." He felt her hand on his and he immediately circled his arms around her, pulling her tightly against him. After a moment, she reciprocated, curving her arms around his waist and leaning into his chest.

"I was worried," he murmured.

"Sorry we took so long. We didn't want to draw attention by leaving too quickly."

"I was sure they'd caught you… that the villagers had turned you in…"

"Oh—no! We told everyone that I've been working at the orphanage. The soldiers didn't even notice me. I'm fine."

She straightened up, as if to prove it, and from such a close distance, he could almost make out the delicate features of her face. Before he could talk himself out of it, he brought a hand to her jaw and leaned in, pressing his lips firmly against hers, while simultaneously tightening his other arm around her. She let out a surprised squeak and pulled away.

He immediately let go, his face burning, and took a quick step back. He stood there, dumbfounded, feeling like a complete ass. What the hell was he doing? He had intended to make a move, but not like this. There was an entire fucking conversation that needed to happen first.

And what was _she_ doing? Had she changed her mind? Was she just here to say goodbye? Or… had he been misinterpreting things this whole time? Maybe her offers of 'never leaving' and 'being there if he needed her' were only meant in friendship.

Of course they were. He was a fool to think her feelings ran any deeper than that. She didn't want him. Not in the way he wanted her. He'd just been rejected… and very publicly. He was humiliated, but his wounded ego paled in comparison to the devastation of his shattered heart.

"Um, Knives," she said nervously. "I think we need to talk. In private."

"Our room's at the end of the hall on the left," Vash offered brightly, his blatant, idiotic amusement adding insult to injury.

Kira put his hand on her arm and led him away from the unusually quiet group of people. After that display, Knives half expected mocking laughter. From Chronica at least…

x.x.x.x.x

Once the reached the bedroom, she shut the door behind them.

There was only one way to proceed. "Kira, I… I'm sorry," he murmured, "I shouldn't have—"

Her lips crashed against his, her hands gripping tightly to his shirt and the rest of his sentence was instantly forgotten. Before he had finished processing what the hell was happening, she broke the kiss, a gentle sigh escaping her lips.

"… Oh…" he said softly, a look of surprise on his face.

He heard her chuckle. "Yeah…"

"But… you didn't…?"

"You surprised me!"

She leaned in again, and this time his kissed back, hard, possessively, ferociously. He ran his fingers through her hair, tangling them in the silken strands. She moved her lips along his jaw to his earlobe and began sucking on it, causing his groin to tighten and his breath to catch in his throat.

"W-wait," he choked out, immediately regretting the sudden flash of conscience, but knowing he had to continue. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Are _you_?" she asked seriously.

Good question. "I've wanted this for so long… but…"

"You're worried about the future," she finished, loosening her grip on his shirt. "You're worried about whether or not we can be happy together, or if we're getting into something that will only hurt us both."

A wrinkle formed between his brows and he nodded. "Aren't you?"

"I'd be lying if I said 'no.' But I still want to see where this goes."

"What if it becomes too difficult and you've wasted years of your life on something that won't work?"

She laughed. "Knives, the same thing could be said about any relationship."

"Yes, but I presume most don't _begin_ with such massive complications," he said dryly.

"True. Look, if this isn't something you want, I understand, and I promise I won't take it personally. But I don't want you to send me away for _my_ sake."

He nodded. "I do want this. I want you… but I'm still not entirely sure that you know what you're getting into."

"_Neither_ of us can predict the future. You don't know how this will turn out any more than I do. And I think… maybe… even if it doesn't work… if it doesn't last… maybe it'll _still_ be worthwhile."

The corner of his mouth curved into a faint smirk. "You think I'm 'worthwhile?'"

"I said 'maybe' didn't I?" she retorted playfully. She moved her hand to his jaw and brushed her thumb gently over his cheek. "All I can say for sure is that I want to be with you now. For whatever fucking reason, I care about you." She leaned up and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "And I like being near you. And talking with you. Spending time with you." She punctuated each sentence with more gentle kisses and Knives felt any lingering concerns slipping away. "You're amusing, and clever, and fun to tease…" Another, longer kiss. "You're passionate. You're determined. But you can be very tender…"

Her slightly parted lips began roaming over his and Knives couldn't contain a shuddering sigh. "Well," he said, rather breathlessly, "I can see why you find it so difficult to leave me."

She snorted. "Did I forget to mention that you're an arrogant, conceited ass who—"

His lips cut her off, effectively ending the conversation. A euphoric rush, an eager anticipation, flooded his veins and prickled over his skin. His nerves were on high alert, sensitive and ready. The demanding play of her lips and tongue, the gentle caress of her fingers on his cheek, and the pressure of her body, pressed taut to his, sent enticing waves of sensation through him that all seemed to gather in one place.

She began tugging on his shirt and he quickly pulled it off. The moment it was gone, a sudden insecurity struck him, dampening his excitement. Although he'd put on a bit of weight and muscle, he was still not back to his optimal form. And even if he were, his appearance was different than it had been. He used to be a living representation of physical perfection, but now… Now, he was damaged. Scarred.

And her reaction when she'd seen him bathing wasn't exactly encouraging…

Before he could think on it further, her restless lips began travelling down his neck as her hands skated provocatively across his bare skin, causing his pulse to race once again. He felt her pause and run her thumb over a spot near his shoulder where one of the more noticeable marks had been left after the bastards had skewered him. "Does it hurt?" she asked softly.

"No…" Not physically anyway, although the memory still sent shivers down his spine.

She leaned in and pressed her lips gently against it. A potent emotion, both wonderful and painful welled in his chest. He caught her jaw and drew her lips back to his. He suddenly had a very strong need to kiss her. She didn't seem to mind.

"The bed," he murmured.

Kira led the way, and, without separating their lips, they stumbled across the room and fell onto the mattress with a thud, making her laugh. Once she had finished arranging them in a less haphazard position, Knives redoubled his efforts, kissing her fiercely, bruising her lips before making his way down her neck and along her collarbone. He lifted her shirt and she quickly shed it along with her bra. He began gently teasing her nipples with his teeth and tongue, bringing forth a series of soft, breathy noises from her that further stoked his desire to please her. He trailed his lips down her stomach and fumbled with her pants, sliding them down her legs along with her panties.

His hands found her legs and he slowly began working his way up them, placing teasing kisses and gentle nips along her inner thighs and exhaling hot puffs of breath against her sensitive skin until she was trembling in anticipation. Once he reached her center, he slowly felt along her folds until he located her clitoris, thankful that their previous sexual encounters had mostly been in the dark and he'd learned to do things by touch alone. He bent down and began stroking his tongue over it, persistently lapping and sucking, causing her to arch into him with a gasp as her hands knotted in the bedding.

He continued on at a tantalizing pace, enjoying her soft vocalizations. She began moving in time with his actions, forcing him to drape an arm across her hips to hold her steady while her noises grew louder and more desperate. He paused for a moment to wet one of the fingers on his free hand before sliding it inside of her, gently stroking her tight walls from within while continuing his oral ministrations outside. She let out a moaning curse and he couldn't contain a smirk. Her fingers dug into his arm as her hips bucked against his hold until she suddenly let out a gasping cry of pleasure, her body tensing and quivering around his finger.

She went slack and he leaned back, wiping his mouth and hand, still smiling. "At least I can still do that blind," he said in a gravelly whisper.

She laughed and let out a satisfied sigh. "Your talents never cease to amaze. Now get up here," she said, tugging on his arm. "I'm ready for round two."

He grinned, quickly shedding the rest of his clothes, and felt his way up her body, positioning himself over her. She guided him in and he released a low groan as her friction and heat enveloped him. It had been _far_ too long. He began slowly easing himself in and out her as she rocked up to meet him. Her lips moved aimlessly along his shoulder before she came to rest for a moment, breathing against the crook of his neck. "Knives… I've missed you…" she murmured, running a hand down his side before placing a tender kiss under his jaw.

That was it. He began fucking her with long, deep strokes that shook the bed. He pressed her into the mattress, grunting loudly with each thrust. She moaned and clung to him, her fingers raking roughly down his back, adding a delicious layer of pain to the building sensations. She arched against him, meeting his pace, as her second wave of pleasure built. He could feel her every spasm of her body, every muscle she tightened, and he had to breathe deeply to stave off his own impending surge. To his great relief, she let out an elongated cry as her body trembled around him. Carnal groans tumbled from his lips as he continued pounding into her until he found his own vocal release. He thrust a few more times, spilling the last of his seed before collapsing on top of her, utterly and wonderfully spent.

They lay there in silence, still linked in a blissful post-coital haze. She traced her fingers lazily across his sweat-slicked skin as he panted against her, drifting in a sea of comforting warmth. For once, his mind was mercifully tranquil, allowing him to simply bask in the present without worrying about the things that lay beyond it. In this moment they were safe, she was his, and the world was perfect…

When he felt her start to shift beneath him, he let out a protesting sigh. "Can't we stay like this forever…?"

She laughed and kissed his forehead. "We'll do this again, don't worry. But we'll have to get back to the others at some point…"

He huffed and slowly dismounted from her, sitting back on his ankles. "Very well. If you insist," he grumbled.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira, once again clothed, grimaced as she stared down and the less-than-pristine sheets. They hadn't exactly planned for clean up when they started their somewhat spontaneous romp. "Guess we'll need to do laundry," she muttered.

"I guess Vash will need to find another room too," Knives said, encircling her waist with his arm and nuzzling her hair before brushing his lips against her temple.

She smiled at his antics. She'd missed the overtly affectionate version of Knives. "I don't want to put him out. I can sleep on the couch."

He scoffed. "I imagine he'd actually _prefer_ being put out if it means you and I are together."

"You think so?"

"He's said as much."

Kira's brow arched. "You guys have talked about me?"

He looked charmingly sheepish. "A bit…"

"Well, if he's as persistent as you seem to think, I guess I'll accept his spot."

"If he's not, you and I will be sharing the couch," Knives said wryly.

Kira grinned and placed his hand on her arm, leading him back through the house.

x.x.x.x.x

The others were lounging about the living room and met them with expressions that ranged from nearly uncontained delight, on Vash's part, to mild disgust, from Chronica. It was Meryl who spoke first.

"So. You two 'talked?'" she asked, in her usual, somewhat prim manner.

Kira felt her face go pink.

"Would you mind 'talking' a little more quietly next time?" the raven-haired woman said evenly, a tiny curve at the corner of her mouth giving her away.

Kira cringed. "Sorry…" She glanced back and Knives and he looked equally uncomfortable.

"Don't be," Vash called out merrily, a huge grin splitting his face. "We're just glad you made it here safely."

Kira glanced around the room. "Where's Livio?"

"He took off shortly after you went inside," Vash said, still excessively cheerful. "Said he didn't feel like waiting. Oh—and he says 'congratulations to you both.'"

Kira cringed again. "Wonderful." She led Knives to an empty spot on the couch and sat beside him. "So, what's the plan?" she said, eager to change the subject.

"Actually, I have an idea about that," Knives said before anyone else could speak. "Since we're still waiting to move against Garrow, I'd like to try to regain my sight, if possible."

There was a moment of silence before Vash broke it. "Um… that's great, but what did you have in mind?"

Knives frowned. "I wouldn't say I have an _detailed_ plan…"

"Is the floating ship still out? The doc on board is really great and he could remove the collar too!"

"I don't think a human doctor would do me much good," he said stiffly.

"Then…?" Vash sounded confused.

"One of the angels healed me after my body was destroyed in July, but I had to live inside the bulb with her and the process took years. Granted, she had to support my normal physical functions while she rebuilt a large portion of my organs and tissues. Staying on display in a bulb for a year obviously isn't an option this time, but… I was hoping…" He trailed off.

"You want to know your options with regards to angelic healing," Chronica surmised.

"Yes. Do you know anything about it?"

She sneered. "And why I should help you? So you can take advantage of our sisters again? Abuse them for your own personal gain?"

"Hey," snapped Kira. "That's enough."

"Please," Knives said, his voice solemn, "Such a small physical repair should be an easy thing for them. I'm only slowing the rest of you down right now, and we don't have time for that. I'm tired of being defenseless. I want to be able to fight, and I want to help you stop Garrow in whatever way I can. All I'm asking for is knowledge."

Chronica's lips thinned to a tense line as she deliberated. Finally, her posture relaxed and she gave an uninterested sigh. "I suppose we have nothing better to do… You want to know how long it will take for them to repair your ocular structure, yes?"

"And if I need to be inside the bulb for it to work."

"Well, I don't have much knowledge to give you—angelic healing is rarely used. I _can_ tell you that you don't have to be inside the bulb, since you won't need the angel as a lifeline, but you will need to be in contact with it. The angels can radiate their energy to the glass surface, and if you're touching it, they can direct it through you."

"Do you know how long it would take?"

"I don't. Since they're being grouped together, you could probably draw on the energy of more than one. I imagine that would speed up the process quite a lot. I think your biggest challenge will be asking them for help, since you can't reach out to them with that collar on."

"But they can still reach out to him, right?" Vash asked.

"They can," Chronica replied, "but would they?"

"Why not? I'm sure they'll recognize him," Vash said, matter-of-factly.

Chronica arched a brow. "Yes, I'm sure they will," she said coolly, clearly unconvinced that recognition would improve the situation. "Well, on the off chance that you _do_ manage to make contact with them,I supposed I should also warn you that it will probably hurt. The atmosphere inside the bulbs allows the energy to be radiated in a field, and taken in more evenly, but since you'll be receiving it in a different form, it'll flow through you more like a current."

Knives nodded, his brows furrowed. "As long as it doesn't kill me." Chronica's indifferent shrug went unseen by him.

"So you'll just have to visit the angels and hope that everything works the way you want it to?" Vash asked.

"It seems so," Knives answered somewhat dejectedly. "The next question is whether there's even a way for me to visit the angels without being arrested."

"The ones aboard the Federation ships obviously won't work," Kira muttered. "What about Ellie? I know Octovern is risky, but maybe if we're quick…?"

"Ellie is out," Meryl said with a frown. "The Federation's been overseeing all her work. He'd be captured if we took him there."

Vash sighed. "And the floating ship is _still_ out…?"

Knives scowled, his opinion clear. Unfortunately, it was the only option they had left.

Kira put her hand on his arm. "Maybe Vash can go up first and speak to Luida—"

"Even if she agreed not to turn me in, do you really think she'd let me use one of the angels on her ship?" Knives said sharply.

A heavy silence hung in the air before a timid voice broke it.

"Um… what about December?" Millie offered lightly.

Four pairs of eyes turned to her. "There aren't any angels in December," Meryl said, voicing the thought on everyone's mind.

"There might be, by now. They finished the new bulb a couple weeks ago."

"What!" Meryl shouted. "How did I not know about this? We should be covering it!"

Millie gave her an innocent look. "I thought you did. And the boss was probably too scared to mention it since you keep telling him how busy we are."

"Only because I don't want him to call us back to Octovern… or fire us," the raven-haired woman muttered. "Well, this is perfect!" she said, with sudden zeal.

Vash cocked his head. "Uh… maybe I'm missing something, but _why_ is this so perfect? We still don't have a way in."

Meryl waved her hand dismissively. "You're missing the point—we don't _need_ an in. Because _I _have a plan! If all he needs to do is stand by the bulb, that should be easy," she said, a cunning glint in her eye. "_And_ it'll buy Millie and I some more time. We'll just do a special on 'Vash welcoming his sisters to their new home.' I'm sure the folks in December would love the publicity. And I doubt anyone would be able to tell the difference if we cover his eyes with sunglasses. I mean, his hair is long enough and we could style it like yours. Shave the beard. Wear the red coat, obviously…" She tapped her chin, her eyes narrowed. "The real trick is going to be leading him around without _looking_ like we're leading him around." She turned to Knives who seemed stunned by her rapid discourse. "How does that sound? Do you think you can pull off a convincing 'Vash the Stampede?'"

Knives raised his eyebrows. "Uh…"

"Perfect," she concluded. "We have a plan!"


	25. Chapter 25

It was clear to everyone that Knives was not particularly keen on Meryl's plan, but it was also clear that it was their best option. Millie and Vash did a 'trial run' of his hair after he had reluctantly agreed to go along with the scheme, and by the time they'd finished, Kira had to admit, if it weren't for the beard and the disgruntled scowling, it would be tough to tell the twins apart.

Vash was absolutely thrilled with the idea, but Kira suspected that some of his enthusiasm was just leftover joy at her and Knives getting together. She wasn't entirely sure why he wanted them together so much, but he'd been bursting at the seams since it happened. He even cleared his things from the bedroom before she had a chance to broach the subject with him.

The troupe set out the following morning for Mirada. According to Meryl, out-bound sandsteamers from Octovern frequently stopped in the large, bustling town before trekking across the desert to December. Although Knives briefly griped about his disinclination to be trapped on one of the large vessels, it was by far the fastest way to travel across the planet, and the raven-haired reporter had generously offered to pay for their accommodations, courtesy of NLBC, so he really couldn't complain. To their great pleasure, they had arrived in time to catch the next shuttle, and by early afternoon they had boarded and were ready to go.

The new solar powered alterations that had been added to the previously plant-powered engines reduced the vehicle's maximum speed a bit, but the trip to the nearby city would still only take them a little over a day. When Meryl excitedly told them all about the three first class paired cabins she'd convinced her station to pay for, Knives quickly insisted that he and Kira would share one. Thankfully, no one else seemed to mind.

The duo made their way to their room and Kira shut the door behind them. She gave Knives a brief description of the small space while she set her bag on one of the two narrow beds. Apparently, Meryl and Millie usually rode in coach, which, from their descriptions, meant they essentially stayed in a closet with two tiny bunked beds, so Kira could understand the raven-haired woman's enthusiasm about having a little more space, beds that were on either side of the room, and a window.

The gray-eyed girl made her way over and peered through the small porthole, taking in the impressive view that spanned over top of all the nearby buildings, extending for miles across the shimmering desert. Sandsteamers couldn't get to Delnashville and she hadn't realized how tall the damn things were! Their room wasn't even on the top level!

She was rather excited for her first trip on one of the towering vehicles, even though most of her time would be spent below deck. They had slightly improved Knives' 'disguise' before boarding the steamer, but it still wasn't safe for him to spend more time in public than necessary. She turned to find him sitting on his bed, running his hands lightly over the mattress, the hooded cowl they'd purchased for him still pulled forward so it covered his face.

She sat down beside him with a grin. "Having fun?"

"The light's so dim, I can't see a damn thing in here," he muttered tersely.

"Well, improving your sight _is_ the purpose of our trip."

"And this bed is too small."

"I don't know…" she said, trailing off, putting her hands on his shoulders, and pushing him back so she could straddle him. "I think we can make it work." She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips, drawing out a smile from him.

"I'm sure we'll make _that_ work, but I like it when you sleep beside me," he said plaintively.

"We can make them both work," she said, relaxing into him. "It'll be tight, but it's only one night."

He circled his arms around her securely. "Good. I want as many nights as I can get."

x.x.x.x.x

They spent the rest of the afternoon, cuddling, talking, and generally taking advantage of their greatly appreciated privacy. Kira could see the dusky red sky through the tiny window as she lay, cozily nestled in Knives' arms, listening to the gentle thrumming of the sandsteamer's engine and absently wondering how the others were doing.

She had felt the tiniest bit guilty for accepting the room with Knives and forcing Vash to stay with one of the remaining women. Meryl was the obvious choice for a number of reasons—the safest one being that they'd lived together in Octovern—but Kira assumed the reluctant plant would shy away from the intimacy of sharing a room with his 'friend.' She almost thought he'd go for Chronica, since the other two women were so close, and boarding with the blond plant would be nothing but platonic, but the matter had actually sorted itself out quite nicely, thanks to Millie.

After Knives had insisted he and Kira would stay together, the tall brunette had jumped in and asked Chronica to stay with her. The woman's underlying motivations were anything but subtle—she wanted to push two of her closest friends together—but as long as everyone was comfortable on the journey, Kira supposed it didn't matter. Unfortunately, Millie's efforts were probably in vain.

It was too bad, really. For all of Vash's enthusiasm about his brother and her getting together, he didn't seem to want anything to do with romance himself. She asked Knives about it as they lay together, and he had explained Vash's reservations, though she probably could have guessed them on her own. Knowing how self-sacrificing the aqua-eyed plant was, his choice to 'keep his distance' on Meryl's behalf was to be expected—much like what Knives had tried to do for her. She suspected Vash had actually been a factor in Knives' hesitancy. Maybe that's why the aqua-eyed plant was so happy—he felt guilty for poisoning his brother's mind, even if there was a certain gallantry to the gesture.

Regardless, both he and Meryl deserved more that the friendship on the verge of blossoming that they had now.

Knives tightened his arm around her, pressing his lips to her forehead, and halting her meandering thoughts. She grinned and ran her hand under his shirt over his bare skin, coming to rest on his side.

"What are you thinking about?" he murmured, trailing his fingers down her arm.

"Vash and Meryl." He made a face and she couldn't help but laugh. "What about you? What are _you_ thinking about," she said, arching a brow.

He leaned back, resting his arm behind his head. "You. And us. And how stupid I was not to do this sooner…"

"The future be damned?"

"Indeed."

She let out a short laugh at his newfound confidence in their situation. "You should tell your brother that."

He wrinkled his nose. "Again with Vash?"

"I'm guessing you'd prefer if I dedicate all of my thoughts to you?"

"Of course," he said matter-of-factly. "I should be the sole focus of your attentions from now on."

She rolled her eyes and poked him in the ribs, getting a chuckle for her efforts. "So damn arrogant…" she muttered. "And what about me? When do I become _your_ sole focus?"

He smirked. "Isn't it obvious? You already are," he murmured in a low, seductive tone, leaning in so his lips gently brushed her temple as he spoke.

"Of course," she countered dryly.

"I'm serious," he said, his mirth barely contained as he found her hand and brought it to his lips, placing soft, sensual kisses on her knuckles, still playfully attempting to entice her.

She grinned at his antics. "Fine, I'll admit it—you can be very charming when you want to be."

"I mean it!" he exclaimed with a sudden blithe exuberance, his smile wide and his gentle grip on her hand tightening as if to emphasize his statement. "You are! I love you, you know!" As soon as the words slipped from his lips his jesting attitude mellowed. "I love you," he repeated, his voice much softer.

Silence descended and she knew he was waiting for a response, though she had no clue what to say. She wasn't surprised, precisely, but she definitely hadn't expected him to blurt it out like that—especially not one fucking day into their relationship. Oh, the perils of becoming romantically involved with a plant who didn't know the first thing about normal human social practices. To top it off, she wasn't entirely sure how she felt in response. Yes, she cared for him. Deeply. But they hadn't been together long enough to know if it was love, at least not _that_ kind of love. She doubted even _he_ knew for sure.

She wondered briefly if he was simply misinterpreting the mind-bending effects of lust… though… there was a chance he truly meant it. They had known each other for quite a while. If this had been developing since before… Maybe he really _did_ love her.

"I…" she faltered and she could see his anxiety mounting. "You mean a lot to me," she finally said. "You mean more to me than anyone. But this is all very, _very_ new."

He let out a short breath and nodded, a small wrinkle between his brows.

"Hey," she said gently. "I just need a little time, okay? It's not that I don't feel that way about you, I just… I don't know exactly what I feel. I need time to process everything."

He swallowed and nodded again.

"Knives…?" She leaned in and pressed her lips against his.

He took a breath and released it slowly, his facial expression relaxing a little. "Yes, I understand," he said soberly. "I suppose… maybe I said it too soon?"

He asked with such adorably sincere curiosity that Kira had to hold in a laugh. "Maybe a bit," she answered, "but I'm honored. Really. I just need a little more time."

A faint smile curved his lips. "Very well. Take what time you need. My feelings won't change… so long as I may still sleep with you while you are 'processing' things," he amended wryly.

She snorted. "So romantic…"

x.x.x.x.x

The suns had long since set by the time Kira and Knives had worn themselves into exhaustion and were ready for bed. Unfortunately, Vash had packed his brother's toothbrush in his own bag, so Kira found herself wandering down the empty hall to retrieve it. It was late, but hopefully not so late that he and Meryl were already sleeping.

She arrived at their door and knocked on it a few times. Seconds ticked by and she wondered if maybe they _were_ asleep. It was possible—Meryl typically rose before dawn every morning. She knocked again and the door swung open violently to reveal an oddly disheveled Vash, his hair sticking out in every direction, a look of surprise on his face.

"Haha, uh, hi!" he chirped.

"Hi…? Sorry, did I wake you?"

"Huh? Oh, no, no." He waved dismissively and pasted on an overcompensating smile.

"Uh… good. I was just wondering if I could get Knives' toothbrush from you?"

"Ahaha! Right! Yeah, of course," he answered quickly, trotting back into the room to his bag.

Kira peered in curiously and saw an equally disheveled looking Meryl with an exceptionally flushed face sitting on her bed and doing everything she could to avoid making eye contact.

What.

The.

Hell!

Kira held in an instinctive burst of laughter. Apparently Millie's efforts _hadn't_ been in vain. Well, good for them—it was about time!

Vash came trotting back, the toothbrush in tow and handed it over with a sheepish grin. Kira gave him a knowing smirk. "Thank you very much, and again, I'm sorry to have disturbed you. I hope you both enjoy the rest of your night," she said, buttoning it with a wink. She could faintly here a muttered curse from Meryl as she turned and began sauntering back down the hall, feeling especially pleased with the world.

x.x.x.x.x

They arrived in December the following evening and an evasive Meryl led the way to the inn, conveniently located only a few blocks from the newly erected plant dome. Once again, she'd acquired three separate rooms, and the troupe unanimously decided to keep their boarding partners the same. Kira had to appreciate the raven-haired woman's shameless exploitation of her network. Honestly though, it was a fair trade. Getting footage of 'Vash' speaking to the angels was sure to boost NLBC's ratings.

After they had settled in and had some dinner, Meryl called everyone together to go over the plan once more. "The head of the plant engineers has agreed to let us visit the angels tomorrow morning as long as they're allowed to observe our stay. Millie and I will take Knives over to the bulb. Vash, Kira and Chronica, you three will wait here."

Vash began pouting immediately but Meryl shushed him with her hand.

"We can't have two 'Vash the Stampedes' walking around town," she explained. "And the less attention we draw the better. I need Millie to film, but the safest thing is for the rest of you to stay here and stay quiet."

"Right," Vash conceded grudgingly. "I guess that make sense."

"Good. We'll let Knives try to connect with the angels and cross our fingers, I guess," she said before turning to face the blue-eyed plant. "Knives, after you're done, there's a chance the engineers will want to ask you some questions. So, for example, if someone says, 'Would you please tell us how the angels are enjoying their new home?' you will say…?"

"Uh… they're… fine?"

Meryl pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. "Okay, although brevity is a smart move in this situation, I'll need you to give a little bit more than that."

"I will be able to answer more thoroughly once I've actually spoken to the angels," Knives offered, obviously not eager to participate in Meryl's 'practice round.'

"And if you they don't reach out to you?" Chronica intoned flatly.

"If they don't reach out, you'll need to fake it, Knives," Meryl said, her tone lightly chastising. "Just make sure you're prepared," she said resignedly, evidently not intending to push him further. "Try to stay relaxed and cheerful. Be positive. Vash is the ultimate optimist, so channel that. And…" she tapped a finger on her lips, "… if you're feeling nervous or can't think of what to say, just smile and laugh," she finished with a shrug.

"Hey!" protested Vash, who didn't seem to be enjoying Meryl's simplistic reduction of his personality.

She continued, ignoring the outburst. "I doubt anyone will think twice about you being who you say you are, but the closer you can mimic your brother, the better."

Knives frowned but inclined his head at the reporter.

"Unfortunately, once this thing airs, even _if_ Knives does well in his role, it will _still_ give Garrow insight into our location, presuming he has already guessed that the twins are travelling together," Chronica said sourly. "But," she added, her tone easing slightly, "I suppose we'll be long gone by then."

Meryl gave the blond plant a stiff nod. "We can leave town as soon as we're done, if you want. Have you received word from your commander?"

"Tomorrow morning I will be meeting with several old comrades who are staying here, and will be speaking with the commander over the sat phone as well."

"Wonderful. Hopefully he has good news… Knives, you should come over early tomorrow so Vash can shave your beard and fix your hair."

An annoyed scowl crossed Knives' face, but once again he inclined his head in reluctant acknowledgement.

"Can I help?" asked Millie, who must have enjoyed assisting Vash on their first attempt.

The aqua-eyed plant grinned. "Sure thing!"

"Oh," Meryl said suddenly. "Knives, how long do you think it'll take? I mean, I know you don't _know_, but…"

"I really have no idea," he answered honestly. "If the angels reach out to me and all work together, I would hope it won't take longer than a few hours? But I may be entirely wrong. It could take all day… or days…"

"Well, let's say, if you can't make contact with the angels within an hour, I'll cut you off and maybe we'll try again another time. Is that alright?"

"Yes… I suppose that's for the best. And if it's working?"

Meryl sighed. "Will I be able to tell?"

"I would imagine so."

"Hm… We can't stay forever, even if you _are_ healing. I don't know—we'll just have to play it by ear, I guess. If I think anyone's starting to get suspicious or uncomfortable about what we're actually doing, or how long we're taking, I'll find some way to signal you, then you can decide how quickly to break it off with the angels."

Knives nodded slowly. "Yes. Yes, sounds acceptable. Thank you, Meryl."

"Y-you're welcome." An expression of total shock passed over Meryl's face before it was quickly replaced by a wry smile. "Alright," she said brusquely, "it's getting late. We should probably get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be a big day!"

x.x.x.x.x

Despite their early retirement, dawn came too soon. Kira rose sluggishly and helped Knives shower and dress before leading him down the hall to where Vash and Millie were already waiting. Meryl tapped her foot impatiently as they entered, wordlessly letting them know that she'd expected them sooner, but there really wasn't much to be done about it now.

The spirited reporter had bought several boxes of donuts to feed everyone while they worked, many of which Vash had already consumed with his standard gusto. His stomach already full, the aqua-eyed plant began adeptly shaping his brother's hair into the 'broomstick style,' as Meryl called it, with Millie offering minor assistance where she could and generally giggling through the entire process.

Next, Vash took his brother into the bathroom and helped him don his buckle-laden body armor. Once they were finished, the aqua-eyed plant handed his brother the iconic red coat and Knives slowly slipped his arms into the thing, an oddly nervous expression on his face. They finished off the look with his black sunglasses to hide his damaged eyes.

"Well?" Knives asked with surprising diffidence. "How do I look?" His posture was stiff, but even with the uncharacteristic tension, his resemblance to humanity's hero was striking.

"Perfect," said Meryl firmly, and everyone else echoed her confident assessment. "Are you ready?"

A fleeting smile curved his lips. "I am."

After a brief series of goodbyes and good lucks, Meryl led the way, with Knives at her arm and Millie at their heels. The door closed behind them and Vash let out a heavy sigh, making Kira chuckle.

"You really wanted to go too, huh?"

"It just feels like I should be there. Like… what if something goes wrong? Millie and Meryl can take care of themselves, and all, but with Knives…? It'll be a lot harder for them to run if they need to."

"We just have to have faith. Knowing Meryl, she'll be able to handle any bumps in the road they might encounter."

"Yeah… you're right. She's pretty amazing," he replied dreamily.

"So… you and Meryl…?"

He turned a brilliant shade of red, a lopsided smile creeping across his lips. "Yeah, I guess."

"What changed?"

"Isn't it obvious? Once you and Knives got together, she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"Um… sorry?"

He laughed. "Don't be. I thought I was happy for you two, but that was nothing compared to this! I forgot how much fun it is to be in love."

Kira's eyebrows shot up. What the hell! Did _all_ plants rush into saying the 'L' word? Was _she _the crazy one? Still, all she could do was grin. "Well, I'm happy for you. And her. I know how much she wanted this."

Vash nodded. "So… Knives. Did you tell him?"

"No… I figured you and Meryl deserve to share that news in your own time."

"Thanks. I think we're gonna keep it to ourselves for a little longer. We still have a few things to figure out. But, I assumed you had with the way he's been acting toward her."

"Nope. That's all him. I think he's just gotten used to everyone—he doesn't feel the need to maintain his defensive attitude as much."

"He's finally giving people a chance," Vash mused softly. "It's all I ever wanted from him," he said, and Kira didn't miss the hint of sadness in his voice.

She pursed her lips. "Now that things are… well… _however_ they are, are you going to tell him about Meryl? About what she did back on the ship?"

Vash grimaced. "I don't know. I didn't want to mention it until he was a little more settled. I didn't want him to flip out without giving me a chance to explain, but maybe he's ready now… Do you think I should tell him?"

Kira paused, pondering his question before shaking her head. "No. I don't think you need to. I don't really think it matters anymore. Meryl's not going to turn him in again and revealing it would only disrupt the tentative peace between them."

"Yeah, you're probably right," he said with a sigh, moving back toward the box of donuts. "It's in the past. I think it's best for everyone if it stays there."

x.x.x.x.x

Knives held loosely to Meryl's arm as they meandered through the streets, the surprisingly light, long red coat swishing around his legs as he moved. With the dark sunglasses on, it was even harder to make anything out, so he was entirely reliant on her guidance. It was unnerving, but it couldn't be helped. At least the bulb wasn't too far away.

They turned a corner and the small woman swore sharply.

"Oh dear," Millie said softly behind them.

"What? What is it?" Knives asked quickly.

Meryl let out a heavy, aggravated huff. "People. And lots of them."


	26. Chapter 26

"Those stupid fucking son-of-a-bitch assholes!"

Knives' eyebrows shot up. He'd heard Meryl swear a few times, but it was rare. And it was never like _that_.

"I'm going to _kill_ them!" She let out a frustrated growl and began stomping forward.

"Kill who?" Millie asked lightly at their backs, unaffected by her friend's display of temper.

"The goddamn engineers. I _told_ them I wanted to keep this quiet so we didn't have to deal with… with _this_! A whole fucking crowd! Arg!"

Knives' heart began beating faster. "A crowd?"

"Yes. Those bastards must have told everyone in the fucking city that we'd be here. I'm sure they thought turning this visit into a spectacle would bring even more publicity. All these people probably came by for a chance to meet the famous Vash the Stampede, so be ready. This whole thing just got a hell of a lot tougher."

They began moving forward and Knives could hear Millie pull out the camera to film. Great. He could already hear soft murmuring as they continued their approach. For once, he was glad he couldn't see. Swarms of humans had always set him on edge, even when he was at his prime. His hand tightened unconsciously as the murmurs grew louder and more excited.

"It's going to be fine," Meryl said under her breath. "Just stay calm. Smile. Be humble."

He let out a breath, focusing. She was right. All of these people simply wanted to express their gratitude for 'his' valiant deeds. He needed to play the part.

They were amongst the crowd now. He could hear voices whispering on all sides in a sort of subdued awe. He briefly hoped they would continue like this, appreciating him from a distance, but a firm hand on his arm shattered that dream.

"Mr. Vash?" A gruff male voice spoke.

His breath caught before he regained control and turned toward the voice. He was sure he looked uneasy and quickly schooled his expression into as relaxed a smile as he could manage. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to thank you for what you did. My family and I were just outside Octovern when the battle started. I was sure we were gonna be wiped out. We probably woulda been if it weren't for you. You're a real hero."

Knives offered a shallow nod. "You're welcome," he said stiffly, trying to maintain his smile.

He felt Meryl moving forward and gratefully stepped to follow her. A moment later another voice stopped him, female this time.

"Mr. Vash, I came from Inepril." There was a surprising depth of emotion layering her words. She spoke slowly, haltingly. "I'm not sure if you remember me, but I was there that day you fought the Nebraska family. I… I lost my husband when the ark destroyed our city. I was six months pregnant at the time but somehow I made it out. I thought it was a miracle. But when I finally made it to Octovern and that thing attacked again," she ground out, her voice breaking. "Anyway, I just wanted to thank you on behalf of myself and my daughter."

Knives could hear an infant cooing.

"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you." He felt a hand grip his tightly. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

He nodded awkwardly, trying to keep his smile from slipping.

It continued on as they slowly made their way to the dome. Every few steps someone would stop him with a kind word or a short story of how he'd saved them. The repeated shows of appreciation were both humbling and troubling. Over and over, he was reminded of how much pain and ruin he'd left in his wake, only this time, he was fully forced to acknowledge the individual cost of his pointless war against 'humanity.' The lingering justifications and fragments of hatred he'd clung to were mercilessly chipped away with each new voice that spoke, leaving shame behind. These people, who were simply trying to build their lives on the desolate planet, who had done nothing to him personally, who were now thanking him, these blameless people would be dead if he'd had his way.

He was a villain—a fool, whose narrow-minded, shortsighted, fear-driven actions had brought suffering to everyone around him. He'd realized this some time ago, but he'd never felt it as deeply as he did right now.

And Vash was a hero.

The relentless outpouring of gratitude was a strong reminder of the larger-than-life status his brother held in this world. Knives had always looked down on him for his aimlessness and his idiotic optimism, but now, possibly for the first time, he marveled at the magnitude of Vash's resilience, benevolence and influence. He'd given so much of himself, and in doing so, had become what independents were supposed to be—ambassadors for the angels, who could pave the way to a brighter future. Even with all the destruction that followed him, Vash had always done what he could to foster a relationship with the humans, and now they were happy to follow him.

Knives felt Meryl pause and a door groaned open before them. They walked into a darker space and the door swung shut, cutting off the gentle murmur of the crowd. He hadn't realized how heavily he was breathing until the ambient sounds were quieted. Apparently the ordeal had affected him even more than he realized.

"You alright?" Meryl asked.

"Yes… I'm fine."

"You did well," she offered encouragingly. "You ready?"

"I am."

She began moving forward and he heard her exchange the usual greetings with an attendant in the lobby. A few minutes later someone came to retrieve them. Knives' heart had finally settled, but as they began moving deeper into the dome, it started racing again. This was it.

Once they had reached the central control room, Meryl cordially acknowledged the engineers, obviously deciding this was _not_ the time to vent her frustrations with them. She went on to explain what they hoped would happen; namely, that 'Vash' would try to 'commune' with his sisters. She gave a few brief, falsified excuses as to why it might not work, as well as a rough explanation that _if _the connection were made, the process could take several hours. The engineers responded with a moment of dumbfounded silence, followed by confused muttering, but by that point, Meryl had moved on.

She slipped effortlessly into the role of the pushy, overbearing reporter, taking Knives' arm and guiding him through the room in an attempt to 'find the best shot.' He followed as well as he could, listening closely to her verbal clues about the layout of the room as they walked, until she dropped his arm, brightly announcing, "Here. This will be perfect! If you stay there, with the dome _right in front of you_, and we shoot from over here, we should be able to get a good shot of both you and the angels."

Knives tentatively reached forward and found the glass sphere only a foot or so away.

"Okay, let me do a little intro and you can get started. If you could just turn this way," Meryl said hurriedly, taking his arm and spinning him around. She pointed at Millie, and the tall woman aimed her camera at the smiling reporter and the somewhat stunned plant. "This is Meryl Stryfe, reporting from the brand new facility in December. Today, I have a very special guest, your hero, Vash the Stampede, who will be communicating with his sisters for the first time ever in their new home. Let's watch." She paused, turning to Knives. "Whenever you're ready," she said gently, taking a few steps back.

He felt his determination flare. It was up to him now. Him and the angels.

He reached forward, delicately pressing his hands on the smooth glass.

_My sisters, I need your help. Please… please, call to me…_

He paused, wishing he could see what was happening inside the bulb, to know if his presence was eliciting any kind of response, but all he could do was listen, and all he heard was silence.

He continued on as the minutes ticked slowly by. When Meryl had suggested they leave after an hour if he couldn't reach the angels, he'd almost asked for more time. He hadn't realized how _long_ an hour would feel while he stood, trapped under the scrutiny of the engineers, waiting for something to happen. He had no way of telling how much time had actually passed, but he doubted it had been more than ten minutes. Fifteen, at most.

It felt like an eternity.

He kept his breathing slow and steady, despite his growing unease. The engineers were restless. He could hear them shifting, clearing their throats, and whispering to each other. Every once in a while, Meryl would say something such as thanking them for their patience, insisting that they remain quiet so he could concentrate, and offering up more excuses: The angels were likely shy from the move. Vash recently had a cold and it might have affected his telepathic ability. Maybe the angels were all sleeping…?

Her explanations were getting more and more ridiculous, but thankfully her audience had no real experience with the ins and outs of telepathic communication and could only look on, mutely skeptical of her words.

It had probably been twenty minutes now… Only forty minutes left until he'd have to admit defeat. He wondered if he'd even make it that long before someone got tired of waiting and asked them to leave. The mutterings behind him were growing louder and more aggravated.

_My sisters, I'm begging you. Please. I must speak with you!_

He knew his mental pleas were pointless. His thoughts weren't radiating—it was only inside his own head. The angels needed to physically see him, recognize him, and decide to reach out on their own. He was half tempted to tap on the damn glass, but he was pretty sure neither the engineers nor the angels would appreciate it.

_Please… Please…_

He continued breathing, deeply and slowly, waiting… waiting… waiting…

His mind drifted back to his time in that endless purgatory; that space between life and death. He thought of the silence, the emptiness, the fear that he'd remain, forever alone.

And he remembered how happy he'd been to finally hear the voices of his sisters.

It had been so long since he'd spoken to them. He wanted to hear them again. He missed them…

_Brother?_

It was a single voice, soft and curious. His breath caught in his throat.

_Yes! I'm here. I need to speak with you—all of you. Please._

There was pause and then he heard gasps from the humans around him. He felt his lips curve into a smile.

_My sisters. Can you hear me?_

He felt waves of confusion and a cluster of images bombarded his mind. They knew who he was but didn't understand his attire.

_It's… hard to explain. Please—I need your help._

_**Why did you not call to us?**_

_I am unable. The humans will not let me use my mind._

Though his answer was vague, the angels seemed to understand his meaning and sent feelings of sympathy. Telepathy was an intrinsic part of being a plant. To take it away was cruel.

_Sisters, I've missed you. Are you well?_

_**We are.**_

He felt another wash of emotions and images. They were happy and content with their new cohabitation. They had worried about him during his eventful time back in the living world, but there was an edge of bitterness to their concern. Apparently not _all_ of them were so forgiving of what he'd done—taking them from their bulbs with dubious consent.

_I am sorry._ His guilt swelled. _I… I was wrong. And you all paid dearly for my mistakes._

Another wave. Forgiveness. Understanding. Irritation. Anger.

_**Why are you here?**_

It was hard to answer after feeling their conflicted opinion of him. He'd put them through so much, and now here he was again, asking for their help. Abusing their kindness and generosity. Chronica was right.

He felt a mental nudge and knew they were waiting on an answer.

He pursed his lips, still reluctant. _A human has blinded me. _He sent a brief memory of Garrow and their fight._ The damage to my eyes is too great and I no longer have the energy to repair myself. I came to ask for your help… if you are willing._

Once again he waited. Seconds ticked by and for a moment he worried that they had simply cut the connection to his mind. He'd asked for too much from them.

And then he felt it.

A prickle, at his fingertips of his left hand, slowly crept up his arm until it reached his gate. He couldn't help but grin at the feather light sensation. It seemed to swirl around the mysterious organ before inching methodically onward, higher and higher, up his bicep, to his shoulder, to his neck. It tickled along his jaw and over his cheek until it finally found the place it was needed—his eyes.

And then, like a bolt of lightning, a massive surge of energy shot into him, filling him up. It took all of his self-control not to react beyond a choked gasp. He willed himself to relax, to accept the gift his sisters were offering as it coursed through him. His eye sockets burned, and he was sure tears were streaming down his cheeks.

The engineers began murmuring loudly, and he heard Meryl stammer an explanation.

_H-how… how long… to heal…?_

It was hard to form words, even mentally, as he was blasted with the piercing stream of energy. He received no answer and was soon lost in the thrumming of the current as it ripped through him. For a brief moment, he thought it was too much—that he was going to lose consciousness—but he gritted his teeth and refocused, forcing himself to bear the pain. He wouldn't let this opportunity go to waste.

x.x.x.x.x

"So Chronica's meeting up with the army guys?" Vash said lazily, tossing down a card.

"Yup," Kira answered, picking up his card before discarding one of her own with a sigh. They'd been trying to distract themselves for hours, but both had grown tired of waiting.

Vash drew a card and immediately discarded it. "I hope it goes well. It'd be nice if they can finally make a move against that bastard captain…"

"Garrow. Yeah." Kira frowned and laid her cards face down, pausing the game. "Once he's gone, what do you think will happen? Knives said he'll probably have to run forever. Do you think he's right?"

"I really don't know. I still wish he'd go back to the ship. Luida could keep him safe. But I guess that's not gonna happen. Other than that, it'll be tricky for him to stay anywhere populated—especially if Meryl keeps doing stories on me. You guys were lucky no one recognized you when you first travelled together."

"I know," Kira said. "The Delnashville region is pretty remote, I guess. All the new technology didn't make it out that far. If he'd been reborn anywhere else, he'd have been screwed." She picked up her cards again.

"I suppose if we all settled somewhere, he could keep dressing like me," Vash offered with a shrug.

Kira grimaced. Even though their faces were identical, the thought of kissing Knives, dressed as Vash, was a little disturbing. She let out an unconvinced hum and the aqua-eyed plant pouted, making her giggle until a knock at the door cut her off.

Vash raised his brows. Meryl had taken the key with her, so… "Chronica?"

"She's not supposed to be back until late this afternoon," Kira muttered, a little apprehensive of their unexpected visitor.

"Maybe her meetings went faster than she expected?" He pushed himself lightly off the bed and took a step toward the door. The knocking repeated, more aggressively this time. Vash frowned and glanced back at Kira. She narrowed her eyes and shook her head. Something wasn't right.

Vash silently went to his bag and pulled out his holster and pistol, strapping them around his waist before turning to her.

'The window,' she mouthed, pointing. They made their way across the room and slid it open as quietly as they could before looking out and assessing their situation. They were on the second floor off the back of the building and the alley below was thankfully empty. Unfortunately there wasn't really a way to climb down, and though a jump from this height wouldn't kill them, it would probably hurt. Then again, from all the stories Kira had heard, it sounded like Vash was made of rubber, so he'd probably be fine.

The pounding on the door reverberated a third time. "We know you're in there," came a deep male voice. "Open up."

"Go," Vash hissed.

Kira climbed out hastily, balancing precariously on the narrow lip of the decorative trim between the first and second floors.

"Hang onto my arm," he said, reaching out.

She did as instructed and he carefully lowered her as far as he could. A scraping metallic click rang through the air and the pair exchanged panicked looks. The damn innkeeper must have given the bastards a key, though they could hardly blame him. Not many were willing to stand up to the Federation's soldiers.

They were out of time.

"Drop me!" Kira cried.

Vash nodded and let go, sending her plummeting to the ground. She landed awkwardly on her ankle, wincing at the sharp pain, but climbed to her feet, scrambling out of the way as Vash vaulted out. As expected, he landed smoothly beside her, grabbing her arm a moment later and yanking her down the alley with him.

"Stop!" came a rough shout out the window followed by a furious curse. "They're back here! Get them!"

Kira cast a glance over her shoulder and saw a small phalanx of soldiers come barreling around the corner at the far end of the alley, in hot pursuit. With a sudden tug, Vash dragged her between a pair of houses and out to the bustling main street. They ran through the crowd and Kira hoped they'd be able to lose their pursuers in the sea of people, but after the soldiers spilled out into the street, a moment was all it took for them to spot the retreating pair.

The duo ducked and dodged through the oblivious peddlers and their patrons as swiftly as they could, but the soldiers were gaining ground steadily. Vash began bellowing at people to 'get the hell out of the way' and plowed into a few unfortunate citizens. Kira soon realized that _she_ was the reason he hadn't already eluded the soldiers in his usual manner. He refused to leave her behind and was doing everything he could to clear a path for her.

At the end of the block he pulled her down a more barren stretch of road and dropped her hand. "Come on!" he shouted, trying to spur her on. She sprinted after him, gritting her teeth against the dull throbbing in her ankle, but not even half a block later, she stumbled, roughly falling to her knees.

Vash, a small distance ahead of her, spun about and began running back.

"Go!" she shouted, hopping to her feet, her heart pounding. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the soldiers who'd rounded the corner, and began sprinting as fast as she could toward Vash. "Don't worry! I'm right behind you!" she yelled, her adrenalin running high. "Keep going! We have to warn the oth—" _Bang!_

"Kira!"

She was vaguely aware of Vash's shouting as she slowed, taking a few more confused steps forward. What…?

Vash's pistol was extended and he was firing at the group of soldiers, several of whom fell to the ground with various howls and moans, while the rest quickly took cover. When the pistol ran out of bullets, he switched to the gun arm and continued his assault.

Kira looked down, still confused by all the commotion and noticed a bright red bloom, slowly growing on her stomach. Oh…

Vash was at her side when she crumpled forward. He caught her with his right arm, falling to his knees and cradling her against him. His left stayed firmly trained on the soldiers who were, at least temporarily, subdued.

"V-Vash…?"

"It's okay," he crooned, his soothing tone offset by the alarm in his eyes. "It's gonna be okay." He began shifting her and she let out a soft moan. He gave her a desperate look, tightening his arm around her shoulder. "Just stay calm. I'm gonna get you out of here."

_Bang!_ An enemy shot kicked up a cloud of sand in front of them and Vash raised his eyes, shooting back, an uncharacteristic look of fury on his face. He lowered his gun, slipping his arm under her legs, the hot metal slightly burning her skin, and lifted her like she weighed nothing. He began sprinting forward but had only made it a few steps before another shot rang out, grazing his thigh, making him stumble.

They fell to the ground together and Kira slipped from his arms, landing on her back in the sand. She stared up at the sky as Vash once again returned fire.

This… this wasn't real… was it? This couldn't be…

But it was. She could feel it… her life flowing out of her, soaking into the sand.

She was dying.

And Vash was going to be killed trying to save her.

"S-stop… Vash…" she called out, her voice weak. He glanced down, his face pale. "You have to go," she said, using what little strength she still had to speak firmly and evenly. She knew he wouldn't want to listen, but he needed to. "You have to warn them."

Tears began welling up in his eyes. "I can't leave you!" he growled, turning back to the soldiers.

"Please," she said, her voice catching. "You… ngh…" Her eyes clamped shut, her teeth clenched, as a spasm of pain hit her. "You have to get out of here," she whimpered. "It's too late for me."

"N-no. We… we can… There's gotta be something!" he wailed, glancing down.

She shook her head slowly, her eyes glassy as she stared up at him. "Go… mngh… P-please… You have to protect him." She let out a shuddering breath as another spasm hit. "Go… And tell him… I'm sorry…"

His features twisted in dismay but at her pleading gaze, he broke, nodding.

Her eyes fell closed, a tear spilling down her temple, and she smiled, her lip quivering. "Thanks… Vash."

He watched in horror as her body stilled. An anguished, disbelieving cry sprang from his throat, but it did no good. She couldn't hear it any longer. The newly emboldened soldiers began firing again, and with a final sob, he rose to face them. He shot back, downing a couple more, but a bullet burying itself in his right shoulder forced him to retreat.

He had to get out of here. He couldn't get injured any worse than this—not now. He had to get to the others. He had to keep his promise to Kira, though protecting Knives might become very difficult when he learned what had happened.

x.x.x.x.x

The energy continued to pulse as Knives stood with his hands and forehead pressed to the bulb, his eyes tightly closed. He'd considered opening them a few times, but was afraid of what he'd see… or wouldn't see. He simply remained in a meditative state, breathing deeply, allowing the energy to flow through him. At least the burning in his eyes had subsided somewhat.

Occasionally he was distantly aware of Meryl, saying something placating to the engineers about the very prolonged visit. Though he wasn't entirely sure of the time, he would guess it had been several hours already. He hoped it wouldn't take many more. Even if the engineers appreciated their chance to peek into the world of the angels, they'd run out of patience at some point…

_**Brother.**_

The sudden whispering voices jogged him from his thoughts.

_Yes…?_

_**We have finished. Your eyes are whole, once again.**_

With that, the piercing stream stopped and he almost sank to the ground in relief. He lifted his head and slowly raised his eyelids. He couldn't contain the victorious laugh that burst from his lips as he stared into the throng on the other side of the bulb, taking in the exquisite detail of their faces.

_How can I ever thank you?_

_**Do what you can to protect our siblings, and the humans.**_

And the humans… He thought back to all the people who'd expressed their gratitude, and wished he could walk among them as himself. 'Doing what he could' would be difficult without his brother's persona wrapped around him.

_I will do my best. I promise to try._

With that it was over. In an almost synchronized movement, the angels arced away, gliding back toward the center of the dome. He exhaled softly and dropped his hands, stepping back. A gentle murmur caught his attention and he turned to the group of people who had been watching in awe.

His eyes came to rest on the two humans who had made this possible and he gave them a grateful smile, inclining his head towards them. He was in their debt. Their faces lit up as they realized that the plan had been a resounding success. Meryl returned his smile warmly and Millie looked like she would have been bouncing up and down from happiness if the camera hadn't been resting on her shoulder.

"Well…? How are they? What did they say?" came a tense voice from one of the engineers.

Oh, right. "They are adjusting well. They thank you for your efforts and would like you to continue your close watch of their environment."

"What was that light surrounding you?" another asked.

Though he hadn't seen it himself, it didn't take a genius to figure out what they were referring to. But how to answer… Hm… The truth? "They channeled their energy into me. I was recently injured in a small altercation and asked for their assistance in repairing the damage."

A stunned silence hung in the air until Meryl broke it with a nervous fake laugh. "Ahaha. Sorry—I probably should have mentioned that before we came in." Her gaze snapped to Knives and, unseen by the engineers at her back, she glared viciously.

He simply smirked in response, still far too elated to care.

After a few more questions Meryl made an excuse to cut the interview short and bid their hosts a gracious goodbye. They made their way out of the cavernous control room, down a long, brightly lit hallway, and back through the lobby to a pair of large steel doors at the front of the building. Knives hoped the crowd had dispersed. He didn't want his lighthearted mood spoiled by being forced to endure the endless, torturous praises again. The trio stepped into the sunlight, the heavy doors closing behind them, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Not a person in sight!

Wait…

His eyes narrowed. Why was it so quiet? He expected the crowd to dissipate somewhat, but there should be a few people going about their daily business, at the very least. The street was empty as far as the eye could see—as if it had been cleared. Gazing up at the windows of the nearest buildings, Knives caught a few faces peering out nervously.

"Something's wrong," Meryl said, her voice hushed.

"Should we go back inside, see if there's another exit?" Knives murmured.

"I think it's too late for that," she replied sharply, gesturing.

Sure enough, soldiers were stepping out of the shadows of the buildings, surrounding them.

"What's the meaning of this?" Meryl called out. "In case you've forgotten, this man no longer has a bounty on his head," she snapped.

"He isn't in trouble. Our captain would simply like to speak with him."

A furious retort was forming in Knives' throat when Meryl laughed, one of her bracing, condescending laughs. "Well this is the first time I've seen an entire armed convoy sent out as a welcome party. And who exactly might your captain be?" she asked, knowing full well the answer.

"We'll let him answer that," their representative countered. "If you could please come with us."

"I'm sorry, but we have a prior engagement. Feel free to send him our sincere apologies."

"I'm afraid I must insist," the man said sternly, raising his gun. The soldiers around him followed suit.

Meryl gave him a biting smile. "I thought you might," she said, putting her arms into her cloak.

Both sides remained frozen, waiting, the air growing heavy with tension. Knives' lip curled in anger as he glanced around, searching desperately for a way to help. The little reporter might be good, but she couldn't hope to take on all of these soldiers by herself. There were just too many. It'd only take one lucky shot and she'd be done, along with Millie and him.

Could they run?

No. There was nowhere to go. The soldiers had them pinned down. Even if they tried to dash back inside, they'd probably be shot before they could open the door.

They were screwed.

Knives clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing, resolving to take at least one of these fuckers with him, when he became faintly aware of the drumming of approaching footsteps. The soldiers too glanced around, unsure of whom to expect. Whoever it was, they were moving fast. The figure skidded around the corner at the end of the block, kicking up a cloud of dust, and Knives' heart leapt at the sight. Vash!

Without a moment's pause, the aqua-eyed plant began firing, the rapid percussion of his shots echoing off the surrounding buildings. As expected, his aim was true, and the sand was soon splashed with blood. The soldiers rushed to face the new assailant, and Meryl used the distraction to her advantage. Her cape flew open, revealing her derringer rig. With practiced control and remarkable speed, her hands danced; grabbing a pair of pistols, firing, and then returning immediately for a new pair. Like Vash, her shots rarely missed their mark.

The battle was over almost as soon as it began, and most of the unsuspecting soldiers were now moaning in the sand.

"This way!" barked Vash, his gun arm extended, his eyes blazing.

"Come on," Millie said, tugging Knives' arm and running over to Vash. Meryl followed behind them, keeping her guns steady, waiting for someone to make a move.

"We need to find a place to hide," Vash said quietly when she reached his side.

"North. The north side is still pretty empty—we should head that way for now."

He nodded.

"Follow me," Meryl called to the others, sprinting down the nearest street. Millie and Knives followed with Vash not far behind.

x.x.x.x.x

Meryl took a meandering path through the maze of plaster buildings, wisely keeping them on the quieter streets. Their pace was relentless. When they finally slowed to a more manageable speed, the soldiers were far behind them and they were all panting from their efforts. As the tension settled a bit and Knives could finally think again, a troubling fact became apparent. He cast a confused look at his brother and asked the obvious question. "Where's Kira?"


	27. Chapter 27

"Vash—where's Kira?" Knives asked again after a moment of silence. Fear took hold as the question hung in the air, still unanswered. His brother wouldn't even meet his eyes. "Vash?" he entreated, pleading for some kind of explanation—something that would put his concern to rest. Surely he was worrying for nothing.

"We'll talk about this later," he responded stiffly.

"Vash! Where is she?"

A tear rolled down his brother's cheek and he finally looked up. "She's gone." Millie and Meryl gasped.

No. He couldn't mean… It wasn't possible. "Explain."

"Knives, we need to find a place to—"

"Explain!" he barked. He didn't give a damn about finding somewhere to hide right now. He needed fucking answers!

Vash dropped his gaze. "The soldiers came for us. We tried to escape, but she…" His face suddenly crumpled, his shoulders shaking. "She was shot… She didn't make it."

The world abruptly fell away. Vash's sobs, the two women doing their best to soothe him while glancing over at Knives nervously, the faint, distant thrum of life in the city—all of it disappeared into a hollow, empty haze. Even his breathing stopped as he struggled with how to react to the devastating words. An overwhelming jumble of emotions churned within him, battling for control, until comforting, familiar anger finally took charge, slamming the others back down into the depths of his psyche.

"Where were you?" he growled savagely. "Where the hell were you?"

"I was there," Vash choked out, an apology written across his weary, tear-streaked face. "We were running… It happened so fast. I tried to save her, but—"

"You were there," he repeated, the little control that he had slipping away from him. "You were there! Why didn't you protect her?" he roared, letting his rage spew forth. "I left her with you! I trusted you to take care of her! How could you let this happen?"

"Knives," Meryl said, her voice walking a fine line between sympathy and reprimand. "It wasn't his fault."

"Do not speak, you filthy creature," he snarled, his unbridled ferocity making her step back.

"Knives!" Vash said sharply, wiping his eyes, his face growing serious. "Don't. If you're angry, take it out on me, not them."

"Fine!" he shouted, baring his teeth, a final surge of fury effectively overpowering his ability to think rationally. He ran forward, tackling his brother to the ground with a thud, and began raining blows down on him. It took a few moments for him to realize Vash wasn't striking back. He wasn't even defending himself. Knives' vicious attack abruptly stopped, his breathing ragged and uneven as his protective shield of anger was dismantled and the depth of his loss returned to swallow him up.

He climbed to his feet, his movements unsteady, and began walking aimlessly down the street. This couldn't be real. This couldn't… She couldn't be gone. He wouldn't accept it. He knew her life would end. He _knew_ it, but not like this! Not now! Not when she was finally _his_…

It was too much. A crushing numbness overtook him. He didn't even notice that his legs had stopped moving. He wasn't aware that he'd fallen to his knees and was now staring blankly into the sand.

Someone knelt beside him.

"Knives… I know it hurts, but we can't stay here," Vash said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You have to get up."

He looked over dazedly, only half-hearing the words. Vash's eye was swelling rapidly shut and his nose was bleeding. "I'm sorry," Knives murmured, apologizing for what felt like the millionth wrong he'd committed against his brother. The sharp guilt at his unwarranted attack pained him for the briefest moment, but it was soon dulled like everything else. There was simply too much emotion coursing through him. His mind had done the only thing it could—it disconnected, refusing to feel anything at all.

"It's fine. Can you stand?"

Could he… stand…? Right. They needed to keep going. Knives forced himself to get up.

"That's good," Vash said, grabbing his arm. "That's really good. Let's go," he called to the others, taking a step forward and dragging Knives along with him.

The blue-eyed plant followed without a word, focusing on his physical experience—the pressure of Vash's hand on his arm, the scent of sunbaked clay coming off of the closely packed buildings lining the empty street, the rhythmic hammering of their footsteps as they jogged. He needed to keep himself distracted until they got to wherever they were going. He couldn't let himself think. Not about… Not yet.

x.x.x.x.x

As Meryl had predicted, the north end of December was still relatively empty. It didn't take long for them to find a place to stay for the night. As soon as they had locked the door, the raven-haired reporter pulled out her sat-phone to update Chronica. She had briefed the blond plant on the situation as they made their way through the city, and warned her not to return to the inn, but she needed to give the woman their current location and discuss their next move.

Millie watched her friend disappear into an empty room and turned to Vash. "We should see if we can find a first aid kit or something so we can clean up your injuries," she said, a fretful expression on her usually cheerful face.

Vash glanced down at the brownish red stain in the fabric of his shirt. "Right." He looked over as Knives worriedly. "Um… do you want to help us look?"

"I think I'd like to be alone for a bit," Knives answered, his voice leaden.

"Okay. I'll come find you when we're done," he said gently.

Knives nodded and turned away from them, wandering into the small house, searching for a place to lie down. He'd nearly forgotten about the 'miracle' of his restored sight. Being able to explore like this sparked a tiny flicker of happiness inside of him, but it was immediately snuffed out as he realized that he would never see the thing he most wanted to. He'd never again be able to watch a few errant strands of Kira's hair being tousled by a breeze, or her gray eyes sparkling as she laughed, or her lips curving into a teasing smirk…

He found a bedroom on the second floor and flopped backwards onto the mattress, staring at the ceiling. His right hand instinctively went to his forearm, but Vash's body armor prevented him from running his fingers over the scars there. His stupid fucking scars… Kira would never again press her lips to them, inadvertently flooding him with so much warmth and gratitude and love…

She'd never kiss any part of him again. Or touch him. Or speak to him. Or sleep beside him…

Before he could stop it, a tear rolled down his temple. It was soon followed by another, and another. He closed his eyes tightly, but it did no good. They kept coming, and he finally gave in, accepting them, letting them fall.

He wished she were here to comfort him, to wrap her arms around him, to soothe him in the way that only she could. Why…? Why did this happen? He knew she wouldn't be with him forever, but did she have to leave so soon? Was this some kind of divine punishment—some karmic retribution?

He wished he could have said goodbye. Their parting that morning had been so peripheral—so insignificant. He hadn't even kissed her. He'd been too preoccupied with his visit to the angels. He didn't know… he never expected…

And now she was gone. Just… gone.

No…

No, not 'gone.'

Taken.

Kira had been _taken_. The Federation had ripped her away from him. _They_ were responsible. And he would make them pay. His fists clenched shut, his hands trembling and his breath picking up. He would make them _all_ pay!

He would…!

He… He'd…

"Hey," Vash called out softly, peeking his head into the room and interrupting the conflicted stream of thought. "You want some company?"

Knives sat up, quickly wiping away his tears. "Sure."

"So… it looks like your trip to the angels was a success," he said in a rather glaring attempt to lighten the mood.

"Yes," he answered flatly. He didn't exactly feel like celebrating.

Vash walked over and sat beside him, his newly applied bandages visible under his loosely buttoned shirt. He had washed the blood from his face as well, though it would take a while for the bruising and swelling to go down.

"Sorry again," Knives mumbled, "about…" He gestured.

Vash stared down at the floor. "Oh. Right… It's fine."

Knives grimaced, his disgust with himself building. "It's not 'fine.' It's never been 'fine!' It's… it's fucking pathetic! I shouldn't have gone after you like that. And _you_ shouldn't forgive me! Why do you keep forgiving me?"

Vash gave him a concerned look and he realized he probably sounded as lost and desperate as he felt.

Still. He couldn't stop the impassioned words tumbling from his lips. "Really, Vash. I don't understand it. Why haven't you given up on me? You must have realized I'm a lost cause by now! I will _never_ be who you want me to be—who I _should_ be! Do you want to know what I was thinking about when you came in here? I was thinking about how to destroy every single person in the fucking Federation. I was thinking about how to get revenge for what they did! _That's_ who I am! You may as well put a bullet in my head now, because you'll have to do it eventually—"

"Knives." Vash's voice was stern, but not unkind. "Just stop talking and listen for once. I don't condone what you did to me. I don't condone any of the things you've done. And yeah, I want you to change—to learn how to deal with things calmly and peacefully… or nonviolently, at least. But I'm not stupid. I know you're gonna mess up sometimes."

"Then… then why? Why don't you just do the world a favor and put me out of my misery?"

"Because I believe in you. I really believe you _want_ to change. Don't you…?"

"I…" It was surprisingly easy to answer. "I do. But… it's so hard. I don't know what to do—how I'm supposed to… She's gone, Vash! I can't let them get away with it! They deserve to die," he hissed. "She deserves justice!"

"Do you really think that's what she'd want?" Vash said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

His words hit Knives like a punch to the gut.

No. Of course not.

He took a slow, deep breath, trying to calm himself. She wouldn't want any of that. He couldn't desecrate her like that. He couldn't use her as another emblem, another excuse for his brutality, like Tessla. She had fought for him—for his right to atone, to move past his crimes. She believed in him. She trusted him not to hurt people again. If he went after them, he'd be letting her down. He couldn't do it…

Knives shook his head in answer to Vash's question and looked up at him despairingly. "What am I supposed to do…? It hurts so much."

"I know… and it's gonna be hard. But I'll be here to help you through it, okay? If you need anything, come to me… Even if you just need a temporary punching bag."

Knives grimaced again. "I'm really sorry."

"I forgive you. And… I'm sorry too, you know. I really am—for letting this happen." His encouraging tone faltered as his grief came to the surface.

"It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have blamed you."

"I don't know," Vash murmured, staring down at his clasped hands. "Maybe I should have stayed closer to her. And after she was hit… maybe, if I hadn't been so distracted… if I'd noticed how fast she was bleeding…" His knuckles were white. He let out a shaking breath. "I think… I wonder if… if I had focused on saving her, instead of trying to get us out of there… I wonder if she'd still be here now."

Knives swallowed, trying to ease the growing lump in his throat. "If you had, you both would have been captured… or killed. So would Meryl, Millie and I. We're safe because of you."

He nodded slowly. "I guess… Kira kept telling me to leave." He lifted his eyes. "She asked me to protect you. And she wanted me to tell you that she was sorry."

Another deluge of tears began spilling down Knives' cheeks, and he put a hand up, shielding his eyes. He felt an arm around his shoulders and he couldn't contain a choked sob. He wasn't sure how long they sat like that with Vash offering what comfort he could, before a hesitant voice cut through the moment.

"Um… hey." Meryl stood in the doorway. "Sorry to bother you, but Chronica's here… and she brought a doctor with her."

x.x.x.x.x

"He's from the Federation," Knives said, not even bothering to mask the hostility in his voice as they met Chronica and her 'guest' in the living room. He may have decided not to wage another war, but his animosity toward the bastards wouldn't die so easily. The gray-haired man shifted uncomfortably, looking down at his telltale uniform.

"I see your sight has returned," the blond plant muttered dryly. "Michaels was one of the medics on my ship. I've known him for years—we can trust him. Meryl did say we needed a doctor," she finished coolly.

"Chronica has informed me of your situation, and I can assure you, I won't say a word to anyone," the man stammered in his own defense, licking his lips nervously and adjusting his grip on the medical satchel in his hands. "She said there was a gunfight and someone was injured…?" He glanced over at Vash as he spoke, obviously noting his battered appearance.

"I did what I could," Millie said anxiously, "but there's still a bullet in his shoulder. I didn't want to make it worse trying to get it out."

The doc offered a polite smile. "Well, I should be able to help with that."

Vash inclined his head. "I'd appreciate it."

"Knives," Chronica said, drawing him away from the others and making her way to a bag set haphazardly beside the front door. "I brought some clothes for you and Vash. Meryl mentioned you two might attract too much attention dressed as you are now."

He couldn't argue with that. He looked like Vash, and Vash looked like hell. Someone was bound to take notice. Chronica pulled out a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of loose fabric pants, handing them to him.

"It's athletic gear. I thought these would be more forgiving if the size wasn't quite right. I'm sure you'll love the design," she said with a small smirk.

He unfolded them and was greeted with the Federation's logo emblazoned across the front of the shirt. Great. Still… as much as he hated being branded as a member of the Federation, it was a kind gesture. He murmured a thanks and left to get changed.

x.x.x.x.x

He was grateful to get out of Vash's iconic costume. Though the body armor and coat were more comfortable than he expected, he felt strange wearing them. It was a good disguise, but he was ready to be himself again. The clothing from Chronica fit well enough, and, after raking a hand roughly through his hair a few times, undoing the 'broomstick' style, he returned to the others.

The doc had given Vash a local anesthetic and was working on carefully digging into the plant's arm, an armada of tools spread out on the dining room table beside him. Millie and Meryl sat across from them, offering their mute support, while Chronica sat near the window, staring out over the city. Knives carefully folded Vash's clothes and pushed them into the blond's bag before taking a seat across from her.

"I'm sorry about Kira," she said, fixing her gaze on him.

He felt the lump form in his throat again, and nodded.

"You were there, right?" she said, turning to Vash who was making a face as the doc pulled a metal slug from his shoulder.

"Yeah," he said, as the doc pressed gauze firmly to the once again bleeding wound.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice gentler than normal.

He cast a quick glance at Knives before answering. "Some soldiers came to our room. We had to jump out of the damn window. They chased us through the streets and she… got caught in the crossfire. They hit her in the stomach and she… she bled out before I could…" He let out a shuddering breath. "I'm still not sure how the assholes found us."

"The entire city knows you're here. Apparently the men and women overseeing the dome wanted to share the exciting news about your visit with everyone," Chronica muttered.

"Yes, we experienced the crowd of adoring fans firsthand," Meryl added.

"Unfortunately, the Federation forces in the city also got wind of it. And, you'll never guess who's men are here, 'generously' helping to oversee the angels' transition," she said with a scowl.

Vash glanced down, wrinkling his nose again as the doc began disinfecting his shoulder, before returning his gaze to the blond. "I wondered. So the soldiers who came after us—"

"Were Garrow's, yes," she confirmed. "I'm sure it wasn't that hard to figure out exactly which inn you were staying at. Dammit! I should have seen this coming," she snapped, in a surprising display of self-reproach. "Of course he'd anticipate that Knives would go to the angels."

Knives felt another wave a molten fury surge through him, and barely managed to stop himself from driving his fist into the table. Garrow. Was revenge against a single person out of the question…?

Chronica seemed to notice him seething and gave him a sympathetic look. "If it makes you feel any better, my commander finally got hold of the records of the criminals who were taken in. He also found the coroner who has been falsifying the death certificates and the man agreed to testify. We're ready to make our first move."

It in no way made up for what had happened, but at least the bastard would finally get some kind of comeuppance. "When?" he asked.

"We will be raiding the criminal facility tomorrow. Unfortunately, Garrow has been clever about keeping his technicians' identities a secret. They've been operating unofficially, which means we'll need to take them into custody directly if we want to pin this on them. We'll trap as many of them together as we can and hopefully the ones we catch will give up the rest. Once we have them, we'll be able to put someone in place to assess the state of the prisoners and take proper care of them."

"Tomorrow! B-but, I need to be there to cover it," Meryl sputtered. "Millie and I both!"

"I'm taking one of the military shuttles back with a few of our other allies tonight. You're welcome join me if you like."

Meryl perked up immediately. "That would be amazing!"

"What about Garrow himself? When will you go after him?" Knives asked.

"Unfortunately, our evidence doesn't incriminate _him_ specifically, but, again, we're hoping that whoever we get tomorrow is willing to cut a deal for a lighter sentence. They'll give him up—don't worry."

"Is there any way I can help?" Knives asked.

Chronica surveyed him carefully before letting out a short breath. "Honestly, I think it would be best if you stayed out of it for now. I've only told Michaels and my commander about you, and even if you disguise yourself again, your presence will be distracting, at best. But I'll let you know if there's anything you can do."

The blue-eyed plant gave a resigned nod. He wished he could be at the forefront of the action, but she was right—it was impractical. Besides, if he joined the fight, his emotions would likely get the better of him. His personal vendetta wasn't important. All that mattered was stopping the bastards.

x.x.x.x.x

Now that his shoulder was cleanly wrapped, Chronica gave Vash some clothing to change into as the doc was packed up his supplies. Knives watched the man inquisitively while he toyed with an idea.

"You," he finally called out a moment after the doc had shut the clasp on his satchel.

The man froze, his face going pale, and Chronica arched a brow. "Michaels," she supplied.

"Michaels," Knives repeated. "Can you do something about this?" He tapped the collar.

The doc looked over to Chronica, not willing to unleash Knives without a second opinion. She pursed her lips and set her gaze on the blue-eyed plant. "You understand that you are _not_ to go after Garrow, you are _not_ to read or control the minds of _anyone_ without their consent, and if you do _anything_ against the Federation or the humans or anyone else, I will seek you out and take you down, yes?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

She stared at him for one final pondering moment before nodding. "Fine. Take it off him."

Michaels gave her a look of utter surprise before turning back to his new patient. "I, um… I only have a local anesthetic. It won't hurt, but I'll need you to stay completely still while I'm working."

"Very well."

The doc frowned. "Then… uh… well, usually we have a surgery table so we can position the head properly—"

"Just place me how you need me. I'm sure I can hold myself in position," Knives said dismissively.

The doc heaved a sigh and moved Knives so he was sitting with his back straight, with his head bent very slightly forward. "Now don't move," he said firmly. Knives felt the sharp prick of the needle as the doc began his work.

When Vash returned, he gave a short exclamation of surprise as he took a seat beside Meryl. "The collar?"

"That's right," Chronica answered, smiling wryly at him. "He's promised to remain on his best behavior—I trust you can make sure he sticks to it?"

"I can," Vash said, with a warm smile. "Thank you, Chronica," he said more seriously, "for everything, really. We owe you so much."

She looked away, a faint pink blush dusting her cheeks. "Yes, well… I'm only trying to rectify the situation." A sudden gravity came over her and a wrinkle appeared between her brows. "The Federation's not all like Garrow, you know. I'll admit, our goal is sometimes too broad, and may be painful for new civilizations to conform to, and there are times when innocent lives get caught in the middle of everything, but there _are_ many among us who genuinely care about the people we encounter—who simply want to help new civilizations grow and flourish."

"I think we all realize that," Vash said with a glance at Knives. "And I think we're all hoping for a peaceful future once this is wrapped up."

"I'll make sure we find one," she said firmly. "And I'll make sure Garrow pays for what he's done."

The aqua-eyed plant nodded.

Silence descended and Chronica drummed her fingers on the table in an oddly restless display. After a moment, she looked up at Vash warily. "There is one more thing I need to ask you, and I'm sorry if this is upsetting to talk about, or to hear," she said, her eyes drifting over Knives for a moment, "but I must know—you said Kira bled out. Are you certain she was dead?" she asked, her voice low.

"She… she wasn't breathing," Vash answered haltingly and Meryl put her hand on his back, tender sympathy on her face.

"You didn't try to revive her?"

Vash winced. "No. But it wouldn't have helped. She was bleeding too quickly. I've seen enough bullet wounds to know how it would go. I would have needed to stop the bleeding, start her heart back up, give her a transfusion for the blood she lost, and then, somehow, repair the damage. And even then… It just—I didn't… It wasn't possible."

Chronica pursed her lips, her eyes narrowed. "I wonder… Michaels, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

The doc let out a grunt. "The soldiers _do_ have some medical supplies and basic training, although this would likely be above their skill level. If the medics got to her fast enough…"

A sudden glimmer of hope sprang in Knives chest. "… Could they have saved her," he whispered.

The doc's movements paused. "They would have _tried_, but you shouldn't get your hopes up."

"But… she was losing blood _so fast_," Vash murmured. "It was just pooling around her—" He glanced up apologetically at the graphic description.

"No offense, but our gear is a little more sophisticated than what you're probably used to. Still, don't get your hopes up." His hands began moving again and Knives' mind began racing.

Maybe… if they could staunch the bleeding… if they could get her heart beating again… if…

His heart plummeted.

If they could save her, then she was in the Federation's hands.

x.x.x.x.x

The first thing she became aware of was a steady, metronomic beeping. The second was the smell—like chemicals. Kira cracked her eyes open and found herself in a stark white room. Her body felt heavy. Weak. Sitting was impossible. Even turning her head to look around was difficult. The room empty except for a few machines, some IV fluids, all of which she seemed to be hooked up to, and the bed she was lying in. What the hell…?

Vash. She had been waiting with Vash. And then… the soldiers had found them… and…

Oh!

Her eyes widened slightly.

Had that really happened?

She wanted to look at her stomach, but even lifting her arm was a trial. She let it drop. The dull ache coming from her abdomen seemed to confirm her memories, at least. She wondered how badly she'd been wounded. She thought she was going to die… Had Vash saved her?

A door creaked open, and she tried to lift her head so she could see her visitor, but after a moment, she gave up with a groan.

"Take it easy, little lady," came a kindly male voice. "Don't push yourself."

"W-what… what happened? Where am I?" Her voice came out in a croak.

"You're in one of our medical shuttles."

"Shuttle…? But, how did… I…?"

"From what I've heard, it's a miracle you're still alive. Your heart was stopped for a good ten minutes. Thankfully, my boys had enough brains to blast your insides with coag foam and give you CPR until the shuttle arrived. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here. Even then, it took the surgeons a good number of hours to get you patched back up. Well… sort of patched up. I don't expect you be out of that bed anytime soon."

What…? She tried again to lift her head so she could at least see the man she was talking to, but failed again.

"Come on, now. They dosed you pretty hard with those painkillers. You're gonna hurt yourself if you keep wiggling around. You need to relax." He took a few steps forward and she could finally see him—a broad-shouldered, clean-shaven man in a Federation uniform.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

He grinned, a wide, toothy, strangely disconcerting grin. "Tell you what—you give me your name, and I'll give you mine."

"Alex," she answered, giving him the first name that came to her mind. "My name is Alex."

He raised a brow. "Alex…? Hm. That's interesting. A few of my men coulda sworn your accomplice—Vash the Stampede, if my assumptions are correct—called you something different." His lips curled. "Maybe there's another name you sometimes go by? Something like… Kira? An uncommon name. A name that's not easy to forget." His eyes glinted coldly. "Would you like to guess my name, little lady?"

"… Garrow."

He nodded. "Good girl."


	28. Chapter 28

"So, the twins _have_ reunited. And I'll take it that was Knives inside the dome?" Garrow asked, strolling up to Kira's bed and staring down at her, his lips still curled in a chilling smirk. "What's he planning?"

She stared back silently, her mouth tensed to a thin line.

"You might as well talk, little lady. We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

She set her jaw and continued her defiant silence, though fear coiled tightly within her.

He shrugged. "Suit yourself." With that, he pressed a hand down on her stomach just hard enough to hurt. The painkillers clearly weren't meant to deal with this. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep from crying out, the machine next to her beeping madly, giving away her spiking heart rate.

"He was restoring his sight? I imagine he didn't like living in the darkness too much. What is he planning," he repeated, pressing down slightly harder.

She let out a soft whimper.

"I promise, this will be a lot easier for both of us if you just work with me. I truly don't want to hurt you, but I can't let him fuck up _everything_ I've been working on!" he said with a sudden snarl. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," she moaned.

"Where do you _think_ he'd go?" He continued on with the relentless pressure, not hard enough to damage her, but enough to keep her in agony.

"I don't know! I don't! Please!" she cried, her eyes wide.

He lifted his hand, a look of mild annoyance on his face. "You really don't, do you," he said sourly.

She lay back on the pillow, trembling, her skin damp with sweat as she stared at him in terror, praying that he wouldn't hurt her again. She was defenseless. She was afraid. She was a fucking idiot! Knives had warned her. Why had she been so unconcerned? So blasé? As if she couldn't be threatened. As if she was impervious to pain.

Garrow let out an indifferent sigh. "Well, if you don't know where he is or what he's doing, how about this: you can tell me about yourself, instead," he said, his eyes glinting. "Let's start with the day you found him."

x.x.x.x.x

They'd been at it for hours, discussing the various details of the situation they now found themselves in and how best to proceed, while Michaels worked tirelessly on removing the collar. They came to the conclusion that Chronica, Meryl and Millie would continue to Octovern, as planned, but that Vash and Knives would remain in December until they could verify Kira's… physical condition. The doc had generously offered to investigate her whereabouts and report back to them, and Meryl insisted on leaving her sat-phone behind so they could all communicate freely, arguing she could borrow a temporary spare from the studio.

Knives was grateful that everyone seemed to share his concern. He knew Kira's survival was unlikely, he _knew_ he was probably just clinging to false hope, but he had to make sure. He had to know that she was truly… gone.

With their plan decided, Meryl and Millie had gone into town to grab supplies. The concern in Vash's voice as he told them to be careful and the way his hand remained on Meryl's arm a moment longer than necessary didn't escape Knives' notice. Thankfully, the women soon returned, and brought back enough food to last the twins for a few days, if needed. Meryl cooked a quick dinner and the companions ate quietly, the looming challenges ahead dampening their usual cheery conversation.

Knives watched them, unable to join the meal while the doc continued his work—not that he even wanted to. Stress and anxiety complemented with an edge of lingering sorrow and persistent anger had effectively killed his appetite. He sat, motionless, though his back and neck protested the stiff, unmoving position. The discomfort would be worth it to get the damn collar off.

Honestly, he was more impressed by the doc's stamina than his own. The man made no complaints as he nimbly and methodically disconnected the intricate web of cerebral interrupters. Michaels hadn't been able to turn the collar off, since he didn't have the external program used to control it, but little by little, piece by piece, Knives could feel the walls enclosing his mind crumbling and falling away.

He could probably overcome the restraining barrier on his own right now, if he wanted, but he decided to wait until the doc was completely finished before flexing his long-dormant telepathy. And so he sat, stoically, resolutely, as the evening continued to creep by, until finally, the last pairing was broken and the doc lifted the collar from his neck.

He put a hand to his throat. Again, a fleeting flicker of happiness stirred inside him, his breath catching as his fingers touched the now-bare skin.

_Vash…?_

His brother, who had been speaking softly with Meryl, stopped midway through a sentence and spun to him, his eyes wide. "I can hear you! How do you feel?"

"Free," he said, unable to hold back the smallest curve at the corner of his lips.

Vash nodded in empathy, having gone through the experience himself.

The doc carefully closed the wound and bandaging it. "There," he said. "You'll need to keep that completely dry for a few days, and watch out for any sign of infection. If you have any trouble, let me know."

Knives gave him a short nod. "You have my gratitude."

Michaels nodded back timidly before gathering his supplies. When he was finished, he turned to Chronica and she gave him an understanding smile.

"I suppose we'd better be off," she said, rising. She bid the twins a quick 'goodbye' as did the doctor. Millie gave Knives a small, sympathetic smile and threw her arms around Vash in a warm hug before following them to the door.

"Right," said Meryl, turning to Vash, an uneasy expression on her face. "You promise you two will be careful? You won't go out and get into trouble or something?"

"Yeah, I promise," Vash answered softly. "We promise," he added, his eyes momentarily shifting to Knives.

"Good. We'll come back as soon as we can. Hopefully things will move quickly after tomorrow. I'm leaving some money for sandsteamer tickets so you can come join us if… if there's no longer a reason to stay here," she said gently.

"Thanks, Meryl," Vash said, stepping closer to her.

"Glad to help," she murmured, blushing, her gaze dropping. "Well, I'll see you soon." Her eyes drifted to his and she stared for a moment, before giving both him and Knives curt, professional nods, and turning to the others who were waiting by the door. Before she could take a step, Vash put a hand on her arm and tugged her back, pulling her into a tender embrace.

"See you soon," he murmured, tightening his arms around her before letting her go, a crooked smile on his face.

She went pink again and inclined her head in a final goodbye. The four slipped out the door, closing it behind them, and Knives let out a small breath of relief. Though he had adjusted to living with the others, he was too overwhelmed and exhausted to bother with social behavior right now.

Vash stared at the door, as if hoping she'd step back through it, and for once, Knives understood and empathized with what his brother was feeling. "You miss Meryl," he stated, and Vash looked over, startled.

The aqua-eyed plant flushed. "I… uh… I'm just worried."

"You two seem closer than usual." Once again, it was not a question, but it still demanded an answer.

Vash didn't respond, but his somewhat guilty expression spoke for him.

"When did it happen?" Knives asked bluntly.

"The sandsteamer," he mumbled. "Sorry. I know it's probably the last thing you wanted to see, or… _know_… right now."

"It's alright," he finally said. "I'm… I'm happy for you." The words tasted slightly bitter, though they weren't precisely untrue. Vash deserved love. And Knives didn't dislike Meryl as he had when they first met. He'd even go so far as to say he approved of her. Still, there was a definite tang of jealousy and resentment mixed in with his more 'supportive' emotions.

But that was _his_ problem, not theirs. He wouldn't hold his misfortune against them. He needed to learn not to take out his negative emotions on other people. This was as good a practice as he was going to get.

"Here," Vash said, offering him a plate of food.

He reluctantly accepted the meal. His appetite hadn't returned, but he knew he should eat. At least it would give him something to do… for about five minutes. Then he would return to obsessing about whether or not Kira had survived… And fearing the worst, even if she had… Dammit! This was intolerable! He needed to—

"Hey." Vash put a hand on his shoulder.

He started. "What?"

"You're gonna have to remember to put your walls up again. Your thoughts are pretty loud."

He grimaced. "Sorry."

Vash gave him a sheepish look. "You don't need to be sorry. I _want_ to know how you're feeling right now. I just figured you'd be pissed if I kept listening without mentioning it."

"Thanks." He took a bite of food and chewed it thoughtfully before swallowing. "Do you think she's okay?"

"I don't know. If we get our hopes up and she's not…" He trailed off. "I think it's in our best interest to stay calm until we speak with Michaels tomorrow."

He nodded sullenly. Vash was right, as usual. Knives just wished it were easier to turn off his over-analytical mind. It was late, but he doubted he'd be getting much sleep that night.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira's eyes fluttered open and she took in the clinically white walls around her. Shit.

It wasn't a dream…

She and Garrow had 'talked' for nearly an hour the previous night… day? Though he hadn't hurt her again, or attempted to drag more information about Knives' current location or plans out of her, he did seem _very_ interested in their time together. He began by telling her what little he knew—that Knives had initially lied about his identity, but that she had continued to travel with him after she learned who he was—and then grilled her on why she'd chosen to befriend the villainous plant.

She insisted that there was nothing like 'friendship' between them—that he'd forced her to accompany him after she learned who he was. Unfortunately, Chronica was right; Garrow wasn't an idiot. He sneered at her answer and asked why she was _still_ travelling with him if she hated him so much. She told him that she became friends with Vash—that _he_ was the only reason she was still around. Garrow laughed outright, obviously not convinced.

He then announced that, since she felt such 'hostility' towards Knives, she might enjoy hearing about his time at the criminal facility. He proceeded to list the various grisly experiments that he'd witnessed, his tone one of vicious amusement. He watched her closely, a predatory leer on his face, as he described in excruciating detail some of his 'favorite' moments. She tried not to react, but her damn heart rate betrayed her.

By the end of his monologue, fatigue had caught up with her. Garrow seemed to notice and inclined his head, a small smirk on his lips, before turning to leave. "I think you might be a bit closer to him than you're letting on," he alleged as he walked to the door. "We'll pick this back up tomorrow." He stepped out, shutting the door behind him, and though her mind continued to churn over all of the things he'd told her—over all the things he'd done to _her_ Knives—it hadn't taken long for sleep to consume her.

As she stared at the white walls, she wondered how long she'd been out…

She tried to sit up, but her body was still too weak. At least she could lift her head today. Glancing around, she saw a camera in the far corner of the tiny room that she hadn't noticed the day before. So they were watching her. Great.

The door squeaked open and the machine beside her began beeping more quickly.

"It's okay," said a man in a lab coat, his hands raised in a placating manner. "I saw you were awake and thought I'd come in to check on you." He smiled down at her, his dark, almost-black eyes crinkling. "How are you feeling?"

Kira watched him suspiciously, taking in the unnerving emptiness behind his seemingly friendly expression. He probably couldn't be trusted, but it wasn't like she had any other options. "Please—you have to help me," she said, desperation coloring her voice. "You have to get me out of here."

The man frowned. "I'm sorry—you're in no condition to go anywhere at the moment."

"Please," she implored. "There has to be a way! A… a wheelchair… or—"

"The captain would be very unhappy if you left," he said, cutting her off and smiling again, the falseness of it sending a chill down her spine. It reminded her of the fake smile Vash sometimes wore, though his often felt underpinned by insecurity, or maybe sadness. This man's smile seemed to hide something much worse. "Here. I brought something special for you," he said, reaching into a pocket at his side and drawing out a syringe. "This will help you relax."

Her eyes went wide. "No—please! Don't! I'm fine—I don't want anything!"

Ignoring her objections, he went to the IV bag and injected the contents of the needle into the solution. "It should take effect in a few minutes. I hope you enjoy it," he said, his eyes crinkling again, and this time she could see a sharpness to the way they glittered. "The captain will be with your shortly."

x.x.x.x.x

"This is Meryl Stryfe, reporting live from the controversial 'Criminal Facility' in Octovern, a place said to house some of the deadliest and most dangerous criminals on the planet. But it seems that the deadliest criminals may, in fact, be running the facility."

"A raid is currently underway, helmed by an elite tactical team from the Federation, to rout out and capture the group of corrupt officials who have been using this facility as their personal laboratory. These men and women have been charged with a litany of crimes, ranging from falsifying medical records, to performing illegal and unconscionable experiments on the people in their care."

She continued on and the twins listened to the small radio in rapt interest as they waited for Michaels to arrive. They'd found the device that morning and had been glued to it since. Knives was grateful for a glimpse into the progress in Octovern, but it didn't stop the relentless pounding in his chest at what news the doc might bring.

A sharp rapping on the door drew two sets of eyes. Knives jumped up and fairly ran to answer it, ripping the door open. "Come in," he snapped at the startled doc on the other side.

For a moment Michaels just stared, stunned by the intimidating greeting. "Uh, yes. Hello," he finally murmured, stepping past Knives and into the house.

Vash extended a hand, welcoming him genially, before gesturing for him to take a seat at the table, and sitting down across from him.

"Well?" Knives said, still standing, his patience long-since depleted.

Michaels let out a slow breath. "Well. Before I say this, I want you to know that it doesn't confirm or deny anything."

Knives narrowed his eyes. "Well?" he growled again.

"Well… I can tell you that no casualties were reported following yesterday's incident. That doesn't necessarily mean she survived. Her death may not have been listed because she isn't a member of the military, or her body may not have been taken aboard the main ship. However…" The doc paused and Knives had to stop himself from throwing a chair across the damn room in a fit of impatience. "Following the gunfights, several emergency shuttles were deployed from the main ship outside of town to gather the injured. Of the people who were taken in, only one was listed in critical condition. An unidentified woman."

Knives' heart skipped a beat, but he held his tongue. He refused to let himself get excited. His emotions had been wrenched from one extreme to the other for the last week and he knew getting excited would only set him up for another painful crash.

"Did you see her?" Knives asked urgently.

"I did not."

Knives swore viciously and the doc's eyes widened in alarm. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm frustrated. I want answers."

The doc looked sympathetic. "Again—I don't want to get your hopes up, and this could mean nothing, but the _reason_ I didn't see the patient was because the shuttle she's being treated in is clearly being guarded… which is very unusual. I didn't want to risk getting caught—I hope you can forgive me for that."

Knives' brows furrowed. "Do you think it was her?"

Michaels frowned before speaking slowly. "The facts do seem to support that possibility, but I don't wish to confirm it until I'm sure."

"Please," Knives pushed. "Tell us everything you can."

x.x.x.x.x

The doc had reluctantly provided them with the shuttle's number and a brief description of where it was docked, though he pleaded for them not to do anything until he could learn more. Vash assured him that they wouldn't, of course, but Knives remained silent.

He honestly wasn't sure what to do. His gut told him to get her out of there as fast as fucking possible. Garrow's soldiers had kept her alive, but he was certain they weren't doing it to help her. They'd question her once she'd recovered, if not before. And once they told the captain about her… They may have kept her alive, but she was still in grave danger.

He barely noticed when the doc left. He was about to broach the subject of 'what to do' with Vash when the phone buzzed, stopping the words in his throat.

"Hey—can you two hear me?" Meryl's voice rang out loudly from the bulky, black sat-phone.

"Yeah, we can hear you," Vash answered. "Is everything okay?"

"Mostly. The raid went pretty well. We're at the facility with Chronica right now. They caught six of the supposed 'techs.' Knives did say to expect seven, right?"

Knives nodded.

"Uh, yeah," Vash responded.

"Well one left, I guess. I still can't believe how barbaric all of this is. God, Vash—it's… it's so horrible! I mean, I know Knives told us about it, but it's just so much worse in person. There's a whole wing of prisoners who have been brainwashed or _something_. And they… they're just… it's like they're stuck in this vegetative state. They don't respond to _anything_! Even the plants on Chronica's team are having trouble figuring out who they are."

"Are you and Millie okay?" Vash asked tensely.

"Yeah—we're fine. We're just about to wrap for the day. Anyway, two of the techs fessed up. They're already working on written confessions incriminating Garrow. We got him!"

"That's great!" Vash exclaimed, smiling over at Knives.

"One problem: Garrow isn't here, so they can't take him into custody."

"Where is he?" Knives asked, his fear rising.

"In December with the rest of his troops. They're sending a team to intercept him before he has a chance to run."

"We have to do something," Knives said emphatically. "It'll take them a day to get here!"

"No! You two are to _stay put_, do you hear me?"

"But he has Kira!" He was practically shouting now.

There was silence from the other end and then Meryl spoke softly. "You're sure?"

"We're… not exactly _sure_, but from what the doc said, it's pretty likely," Vash answered.

She let out a slow breath. "Can you please just let Chronica and her team handle this? I'll let her know about Kira, but it's too much of a risk for you two to go in alone. You could be killed," her voice faltered. "Please. _Knives_—please. Wait."

He remained silent.

"I'll talk to him," Vash muttered, looking over at his brother with a frown. Knives glared back.

"Okay… okay. Look, I gotta go. Just… whatever you do, be careful. For me."

Vash said a quick goodbye and ended the call, a conflicted expression on his face.

"We have to do _something_," Knives growled again.

"Like what?"

"We have to rescue her."

Vash let out a humorless laugh. "Is that the extent of your plan?"

"This is your area of expertise, not mine," Knives answered dryly.

He released a haggard sigh. "If it _is_ her in there, she'll be in no condition to run around. She may not even be conscious. Maybe it would be best if we wait for the others. It's only one more day—"

"Vash! Garrow will _kill_ her—just to spite us! Especially if he realizes he's lost. We don't have time! We have to go after her now!"

"Aaaaah! Shit!" Vash cursed heatedly, a hand running roughly through his spikey black hair. "Shit shit shit!" He exhaled sharply. "Okay. So… first, we need to find a way aboard the ship, which will probably require an access code, and we need to do it without drawing anyone's attention. And then we'll need to get to the shuttle itself, again without being arrested or killed. Once we're there, we still need to get inside, which means we'll probably need _another_ access code. Not to mention dealing with whatever guards Michaels was talking about… Knives, this is impossible!"

"We'll figure it out. Come on—you do this kind of thing all the time!"

"Arg! Fine! Dammit! But you have to promise me you won't kill _anyone_."

Knives lifted a brow. "The pair of us are about to take on an entire platoon of soldiers and you're worried about _them_?"

"Yes," Vash answered simply. "Promise me."

"Fine! I will _try_ not to kill anyone," he snapped. "It's not like I have a damn weapon anyway."

"You better keep that promise," Vash muttered.

"I'll try. But I will also do whatever it takes to get Kira out of there safely."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira stared at the ceiling in a pleasant stupor. She had been staring like this for… hours? Days? Forever? It didn't matter. She was so… warm… and relaxed… with just a little bit of fizzy, bubbly amusement lacing through her. She'd been so worried that the drugs would hurt her somehow, but this was… nice.

The door opened and she heard someone pad across the room toward her. Garrow's head came into view and her smile fell away.

"Sorry, little lady," he said with a grin, "I meant to be here sooner, but something came up."

She glared up at him, a simmering, intoxicated anger taking hold of her. At least her fear was gone. "They're going to get you," she said, speaking without really meaning to. "It doesn't matter what happens to me—they probably think I'm dead. But someone is going to get you."

He narrowed his eyes. "You sure seem set against me, not that I can blame you. Still, I'll never understand why you and your little friends are siding with that monster."

"Because _you_ are the monster," she mumbled. "Knives told us about the… whatever. Experiments. The people you're killing."

"Disposing of convicted murderers and rapists. What a terrible crime," he said flatly. "It's for your damn planet's good, you know."

She frowned and shook her head limply. Forming sentences was too difficult.

"You may not believe me, but I'll say it again—I did it for _your_ planet. And now, after all the work I put in, those bastards are dismantling everything!"

"Good."

His jaw tensed. "You know, I've been doing this job my entire life. I've been on missions all over this damn galaxy. I've seen so many godforsaken human cesspools, and do you know what I did? I fixed them. I put them back together—did whatever I had to put thing in order so the people living there could have happy, comfortable lives. And do you know what I got out of it? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing! Once I was done, they'd ship me off to the next dump of a planet and I'd have to do it all over again. Over and over."

"And I realized that I don't care anymore. I don't want to help people anymore. If these backwater civilizations can't manage to get themselves together, then they deserve to live in chaos. They deserve to go extinct. It's as simple as that. Before I came out here, I decided this would be my last mission. I'd fix this planet up and retire out here, and _finally _get to enjoy the fruits of my labor. For once! And you know what I found? A goddamn desert wasteland with one of the most backwards, lawless populations I've ever seen, not to mention a system of stressed plants that can barely support the planet because _fucking Knives_ obliterated half their population! So terraforming was out of the question."

"This basically turned into a rescue mission as soon as we touched down, which meant a hell of a lot more work and a lot more time and effort for a bunch of assholes who actually _resent_ our presence! I mean, how ungrateful can you be! But you know what I did? As usual, I brushed it off, got my team to work, and started cleaning this shithole up while the rest of the Federation decided how to proceed."

"And then my boys found the Eye of Michael. We got a good look at some of the stuff _they_ were up to, and I had an idea—a simple way to cull the herd and simultaneously create a way for us to transform this heap of sand into someplace we could actually survive! All we had to do was turn the lowest of the low into plants and use _them_ to terraform. It was the perfect solution. Simple. Effective. The best use of resources…" He trailed off, staring absently for a moment before straightening up with a huff.

"We were _this close_ to figuring that damn formula out," he hissed, holding his almost touching fingers in front of her eyes, "if we just had a little more time. Yes, we made some sacrifices, but those people deserved to die. At least this way they were fucking useful for a change!"

"And then thatprick had to go and tell everyone about it! He fucked up everything! Again! Not only that, but now he's destroyed my _entire future_! So here we are. I was initially going to question you, but there really isn't a point anymore, little lady."

Garrow gestured to the camera. A moment later, she heard the door swing open across the room and the man in the lab coat came into view, his dark eyes gleaming.

Garrow smiled. "Now, my associate and I have something else in mind."


	29. Chapter 29

A slight tremor of fear ran through Kira, her drug-fogged brain finally registering the danger she was in as the two men approached her bed. "Wha… what are you doing?" she mumbled.

"I'm finished," Garrow said tersely. "_We're_ finished," he amended, with a glance at his subordinate. "I imagine word is spreading through the rest of the Federation right about now, and as much as they may _understand_ my motivations, they're not stupid enough to support my methods—especially not publicly. They'd have a revolution on their hands. They'll sacrifice me to keep the peace," he said in an irritated voice. "I'll be imprisoned—probably for the rest of my life. Still, I'd prefer that to scrounging around the desert until I die."

"That said," he added, "I'd like to leave a little parting gift for your friends."

He shifted his gaze to the man in the lab coat and gave him a sharp nod. The man pulled out a small vial of liquid and a capped needle.

Kira made a protesting noise and tried to sit up again, but failed.

"Now, now," Garrow said, placing a hand on her shoulder and holding her in place, not that he even needed to. "Don't bother fighting. You'll only hurt yourself."

"Wh… why?" Kira stared up at him dully.

"Revenge." He shrugged. "Simple as that. You have the distinguished honor of being the last subject of the final version of our tragically unsuccessful serum; the serum your 'not-a-friend' Knives helped to create. I'm sure he'll be thrilled to know he played a part in this."

She tried to struggle, but Garrow leaned over, grabbing her other shoulder and pinning her down. She thrashed about and released various obscenities, but it did little good. She felt another hand, this one belonging to the man in the lab coat, holding to her left wrist to the bed. The needle pricked into her forearm, and as he depressed the plunger, burning liquid entered her bloodstream sobered her up very quickly. He pulled the needle out and let go of her, as did Garrow. They both straightened up and stepped back, watching her with shameless curiosity.

She knew what they'd injected into her. She tried to remember everything Knives had said about the serum, but the sensation of it spreading through her body was impossibly distracting. It scorched in her veins, molten and searing, making her heart rate spike and her body seize up. She began twitching and shaking uncontrollably. She clenched her jaw tightly to keep from biting her own tongue.

Then the voices began.

Like a tidal wave, they crashed down on her, drowning her in a whispering, thundering cacophony. Her mind was blown apart by the overwhelming new awareness. It felt as if she were being shredded into a million tiny pieces by the relentless, whirling onslaught of voices and it took her a moment to realize that one of those voices was her own—screaming as she struggled to regain control.

Her heart hammered under the oppressive thrum—the relentless stream of sensation, fragmented into jagged little mental prickles that scraped and scratched and tore at her. It was too much. She couldn't breathe!

Panic gripped her.

No! She wouldn't die like this! She had to fight it!

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pushed back against the swelling ocean of chatter. She would shut them out—just like she had with Knives. If she had a little more strength!

She cried out and fought with everything inside her for what felt like an eternity. She could feel the roar dying down and she redoubled her efforts, trying to stem the relentless input, but her energy was waning. She wouldn't last much longer. She forced out a slow, labored breath as she wrestled with unconsciousness on top of everything else. If she fainted, would she ever wake again?

It didn't matter. If this was the end, she would go out fighting. She exhaled deeply, pushing back with the last of her flickering strength as the darkness swallowed her.

x.x.x.x.x

"You're insane," Knives remarked, staring at his brother who was once again clothed in the body armor.

Vash fished his red coat out of the bag Chronica had left with them and scowled over his shoulder. "This is a good idea! It'll be a lot easier to get through that ship if one of us creates a diversion," he said sourly, sliding his arm into a sleeve.

Knives arched a brow. "Did it occur to you that your presence will tip them off?"

"Well, yeah, but the idea is that you get in, get her, and get out while they're chasing after me. I should be able to keep them busy for a while."

"You're insane," Knives repeated. "It'd be safer to sneak through together."

Vash scoffed. "Yeah. A pair of identical twins in matching outfits won't attract _any_ attention," he said sarcastically.

"The whole point of _sneaking_ is not to be seen in the first place."

"Well, the odds are that _someone_ will see us—it's not exactly easy to hide in an open hallway. At least you'll have a decent disguise."

Knives glanced briefly down at the Federation logo on his shirt.

"And," Vash went on, "with my distraction, hopefully they'll be too preoccupied to take notice of you. Besides, if I go in as myself, maybe I can use my celebrity status to—I don't know—sway their allegiance or something? Try to get them on our side. I mean, Garrow _is_ breaking the law. If they won't listen, I'll just get the hell out of there. It's worth a shot, anyway."

Knives stared at his brother in amazed disbelief at how nonchalant he sounded. Wasn't _he_ the one who'd said this whole thing was impossible? And _this_ was his brilliant solution? "And if they shoot at you? Like they did _yesterday_?"

Vash gestured to himself, once again adorned in red. "Bulletproof, remember?"

"What about your head," Knives retorted with a sneer.

"I'm pretty good at dodging." Vash gave him a cocky smile and went back to buttoning his coat. Ass.

An overly confident ass, at that. Was this really the kind of plan he usually went with? He was supposed to be the expert! Knives wasn't sure why, but he'd expected something more… well… _planned_. This was a disaster-in-the-making. And Knives wouldn't let it go on.

Did Vash think nothing of his own life?

"It's still too much of a risk. I want to save Kira, but I won't lose you in the process," he said harshly. "I agree we might draw too much attention if we go through the ship together, but I won't let you be a 'diversion' for me. I say we do it in reverse. Give me a chance to sneak in and out on my own before you try anything. If I don't come back, then…" He trailed off, not really wanting to encourage Vash's theatrics. "If I don't come back, maybe you should wait for Chronica and her team," he finished.

Vash gave him a look of dismay. "No way! I'm not going to leave you in there!"

"Fine! But _at least_ give me a chance to do this quietly before you rush in and blow our cover!" he snapped. Vash pouted and Knives heaved a frustrated sigh at the sight. "Sorry," he muttered, frowning as he considered the monumental task before him.

Getting the codes he needed shouldn't be too hard, and navigating through the ship was doable, but he didn't have many options if someone noticed him. He considered asking Vash for the revolver, but having a gun strapped around his waist would be a dead giveaway to anyone who saw him. He'd just have to be very careful and very, very lucky.

And… he supposed he'd have to trust Vash to save the day if something _did_ go wrong.

x.x.x.x.x

The twin suns were sinking slowly toward the horizon, dusky oranges and pinks creeping into the sky as Knives waited. Vash had gone to buy ammo. Knives followed as much as he could, but when things became too populated the brothers decided it would be safer to split up. Knives paced up and down an alley impatiently. He felt like he'd been here for hours, though in reality it had probably only been thirty minutes.

He froze at the sound of footsteps and turned away from them, lowering his head, just in case it wasn't Vash. As much as he hated the various 'disguises' he'd worn, he really wished he had something to hide his face right now.

"Hey! I'm back," Vash called out lightly.

Knives spun about, facing him. "What took you so long?"

"Well, the I had to get ammo," he whined, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I _know_ that. But still!"

"And then I had to find the veterinarian…?" He raised his brows at the end, full well knowing it was the most ridiculous answer he could have given.

Knives pinched the bridge of his nose. "And why…?"

Vash reached into his pockets and pulled out two handfuls of darts. "For tomas!" he said with a smirk.

"Tomas?"

"You know, during mating season? The males can get really aggressive when the females are in heat, so sometimes the ranchers will give them a tiny dose to calm them down. You were complaining about not having a weapon, so…" He shrugged.

Knives had no words.

"Aaand they're non-lethal! Should knock a human on their ass pretty quick, though." Vash grinned brightly. He was obviously very amused with his solution. And Knives had to admit, it _was_ better than nothing.

x.x.x.x.x

They continued on, avoiding busy streets until they finally came upon the lone Federation ship on the west side of town. The Cassiopeia. Garrow's ship. Knives stared at the top of monolithic structure rising up over the city, a familiar, all but forgotten feeling stirring inside him—the anticipation of battle. Of course, this time the goal wasto avoid such confrontation.

The twins stealthily peered around the corner of a building to get a better look at the ship's entrance. A pair of guards stood watch, their posture lax. Knives almost grinned. This was too easy.

"I'm going to bring them over," he whispered. Vash made a noise of objection and Knives couldn't contain an aggravated sigh. "You have a better plan?"

"… You won't hurt them."

Knives rolled his eyes. "Wasn't planning on it. When they get here, I'm going to knock one of them out," he said, pulling out one of the darts Vash had given him and uncapping it. "We'll need the second one for information."

His brother nodded. "Right."

Knives reached out with his mind, and took hold of the two guards. They fought back mentally—the Federation must give their soldiers a basic training on how to deflect telepathic attacks—but they weren't strong enough to overpower _him_. He quickly regained control, forcing them to walk to where he and Vash waited.

God, he'd missed telepathy! It was entirely worth the swift and painful death that awaited him if Chronica found out he'd broken _every_ rule she'd given him when his collar was removed. Oh well. Desperate times.

As planned, Knives took down one of the men, jabbing a dart into his arm. The guard crumpled a few seconds later and Vash caught him, laying him to rest on the ground. Knives dove deeper into the mind of the second.

"What is the code for the door?" he asked aloud, knowing the question would draw out the information he wanted. Sure enough, it quickly rose to the surface, despite the guard's feeble attempt at hiding it. Knives' lips curved into an almost-malevolent smile. Yes. Far too easy. He'd missed this.

x.x.x.x.x

By the time he'd finished, Knives had the code to enter the ship as well as a rough idea of the layout, and a code to enter the hangar. Unfortunately, the guard didn't know anything more. After mentally sharing the information with Vash, Knives jammed a needle into the man's arm, catching him as he slumped to the ground and laying him beside his comrade.

"How long will they be out?" he asked, climbing to his feet.

"A few hours, I'd guess," Vash answered. "Maybe a little less? Should buy us enough time though."

"I must say, it's an effective technique," he said, inspecting one of the darts more closely. It was essentially a pressurized hypodermic needle, so it released all of its contents on impact. How useful!

Vash let out a short laugh. "Well, I'm glad you like it! And I'm glad you're willing to try things my way, for once," he said, looking pleased.

"Okay—I'm going in. You know the plan?"

"You'll enter, find Kira, and get her out. If you're not back in half an hour, I'll come after you."

"Just… if you go in, promise you'll be careful."

Vash flashed an infuriatingly lighthearted grin. "I'm always careful! Same goes for you."

Knives gave him a departing nod and cautiously made his way across the empty stretch of sand, painted deep purple in the twilight. Upon reaching the door, he typed in the code and the great metal slab slid open. He half expected to find a squad of soldiers in wait, but the entry way was quiet. He began trotting down the hall. According to Michaels, Kira's shuttle should be in Hangar 3-01, three levels up on the southern side of the ship. And now, with the guard's help, he had a much better idea of how to get there.

There was an elevator near the entry, but as he came upon it, a pair of soldiers approached from the opposite direction, talking casually as they strode toward him. He continued forward, passing the elevator and keeping his head low, hoping they wouldn't look at him too closely. They didn't appear to notice him, but entered the elevator themselves. He cursed internally, and kept moving. Oh well… It was probably better he didn't risk getting trapped in such a small space with a group of soldiers anyway. There was a stairwell not much further down the hall, and he began climbing as quickly as he could.

As he exited into the hallway on the third level, another pair of soldiers sauntered past him. Once again, they didn't pay him much notice. The disguise seemed to be working. He turned right out of the doorway and continued onward. A lone soldier passed, glancing over at him curiously. Knives quickly scanned his thoughts but the man's interest in him was fleeting. He was mostly focused on what he'd eat for dinner once he was off-duty.

At the end of the hall, Knives came to a large steel doorway. He typed in the entry code and slipped inside, where he found an enormous hangar, housing five large emergency shuttles. He glanced around in search of the guards Michaels had mentioned, but didn't see anyone. His footsteps echoed through the chamber as he made his way to the closest aircraft, searching its side for a number.

"Hey! You!" An irate voice cut through the space and a disgruntled-looking man marched around the side of the furthest shuttle. "What are you doing in here?"

Just one?

Knives lifted a hand in greeting and smiled. Again—too easy.

x.x.x.x.x

After drawing the information he needed from the guard, Knives incapacitated the man with one of the darts. Stepping around the prone body lying peacefully on the ground, he made his way to the far shuttle—Kira's shuttle—and typed the code for the door. It slid open and a startled yelp rang through the air. Knives swiftly readied another dart and cautiously stepped inside where he found a man in a lab coat staring at him, his nearly black eyes wide with shock.

Wait…

"You!" Knives snapped, taking in the hawkish features of the man's face. So _that's _what he looked like under the mask. Dark Eyes. If _he _was here, then… What had he and Garrow been up to? "Where is she?" Knives growled, his gaze darting around the space.

A wall cut the shuttle in half. The front portion seemed to be for triage and basic first-aid treatment. There were several open bays so the medics could easily attend to multiple patients at one time. He suspected the back portion of the shuttle was reserved for emergency surgeries and the like. A small black-and-white screen near the cockpit displayed what looked like a live-feed of a figure, lying on a hospital bed.

Though the image was grainy, Knives had a damn good idea of who it might be. And where. He turned on the tech, his eyes glinting dangerously, demanding an answer.

"Sh-she's… she's not… um, she's… I don't…" the man babbled uselessly.

Knives gestured to the door that led to the back of the shuttle. "Open it," he commanded viciously.

Dark Eyes shook his head in refusal.

"Now!"

He gave another frightened yelp and scurried over, quickly typing a code into the panel. The door slid open and Knives let out a soft breath. Through the narrow doorway he could see the covered legs and torso of an unmoving body. The steady beeping from a heart monitor reassured him a little.

"You. Inside." He gestured and Dark Eyes quickly obeyed, rushing in and cowering in a far corner of the room. Knives entered behind him and his heart began drumming as Kira's pale, sleeping face came into view. It _was_ her. Of course it was. She was alive! "Don't move," he ordered sternly as he walked over to her.

He put a hand on her cheek, calling her name softly, but she didn't awaken. He moved his hand to hers and gave it a light squeeze before running his thumb over the back of it.

"Kira," he said a little more loudly. She didn't respond and his anxiety surged. He put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently. "Kira!" His eyes snapped to the technician who had sunk to the floor and was visibly shaking. "What's wrong with her?"

"She… it… was Garrow. He made me… we gave her a dose of the serum. He wanted her to be the last one."

The world went red and it took everything in his power not to snap the man's neck. But… he'd promised. Vash would never forgive him if he did. "The serum? But she's… How is she still here?"

"It… happens… from time to time. The formula has been improved—we've had a larger percentage survive to this state. And she's stronger than we expected."

"Will she… wake up?" Knives asked, his mouth dry.

Dark Eyes shook his head slowly. "Even if she does, the telepathy will overpower her again. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" He let out a small, humorless laugh and walked over to the cringing tech who began whimpering and begging for his life. Knives grabbed him by the front of his damn lab coat and threw him into the wall, face-first. He fell to the ground with a moan, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. At least he'd probably shut up for a while. "Don't move," Knives barked, turning back to Kira.

She was so quiet… So still. At least she wasn't screaming like the man Knives had observed back in the lab. He wasn't sure if he could bear to see her like that. No—she was past that point. His lips curled back in a mute snarl.

But, she was still alive. That had to be a good sign, right? Maybe she'd… maybe she'd be okay…?

He let out a sharp breath, forcing himself to focus. He couldn't get lost in his pointless ruminations. There was one thing he was sure of: right now, he had to protect her. He had to shield her. He bent down, leaning over her and running his thumb along her cheekbone as he pushed into her mind. Her thoughts were silent, but in her unconscious state that wasn't unexpected.

He created a barrier around them and began stroking her hair, the side of her face, her neck, her shoulder, trying desperately to wake her. "Kira…?" He whispered softly, pleading with her. He heard the tech shift and glanced down suspiciously, but the man had only leaned back against the wall and was staring up at him, still trying to stem the blood coming from his nose, a look of doubt on his face.

The bastard didn't think she could be saved. He didn't think blocking the telepathic input would do any good because it was only a temporary fix. The voices would overcome her at some point. But Knives didn't fucking care. Maybe Dark Eyes was right—she'd never be able to adjust to the telepathic load on her own. So what? If that were the case, then he'd just keep shielding her. Forever!

As he continued his efforts, his frustration grew. "Wake up," he demanded. "You must wake up!" If she didn't respond soon, he'd have to carry her out like this. Her heart rate increased very slightly, but she still didn't stir.

Shit. He couldn't wait any longer or Vash would come rushing in to save the day. He deftly removed the various needles and sensors from her body, causing the heart monitor to emit a high-pitched tone. He bent down and put an arm around her shoulders and one under her legs. He was just about to lift her when a weak groan teased his ears.

Knives' breath caught and he reared up, looming over her. Her eyes fluttered open and she let out a small noise of surprise.

"Kira," he whispered, tenderly brushing his fingers over her cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Knives…?" She stared up at him dazedly for a moment. "Your… your eyes," she said, her brows raising before she dropped her gaze. "And the collar." She lowered her gaze further and her face twisted in confusion. "What the hell are you wearing?"

He couldn't stop a choked laugh. "A disguise," he answered with a wavering grin.

Her mouth bowed in response, and before he could think, his lips pressed fervently against that wonderful, endearing smile. "I thought you were dead," he hissed as he pulled away.

"So did I," she admitted softly. "A couple times, actually… How long have I been out?"

"Good question," he said tartly, turning to Dark Eyes. "Care to elucidate?"

"Uh… f-few hours?" he offered, wincing as he spoke through a split lip.

"Am I… Am I okay now?" she asked.

Knives' face darkened. "Yes," he answered assertively. "You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you."

"Am I… a plant?"

Knives ran his hands lightly over her forearms. There was a definite prickle emanating from the left, confirming what he already suspected. What he already knew, but refused to think about too deeply. He nodded shakily.

Her brows knitted together. "But… how? I mean—I tried… I _tried_, but I couldn't fight it!" she stammered, panic building in her voice.

"Don't worry—it's going to be okay," he soothed, stroking her hair again. "I'm shielding you," he explained while he dug into his pocket for one of the tranqs. "I'll tell you more later, but right now we need to go." He strode over and jabbed the dart into Dark Eyes' shoulder, taking no small amount of pleasure from the action. He didn't bother catching the man as he slumped to the side. "Can you stand?" he asked, turning to Kira.

She pushed herself into a seated position with a grimace, and put a hand over her stomach. "It hurts."

"Here." Once again, Knives put his arms around her, this time scooping her up off the bed. "Just hold on to me. I'll get us out of here as quickly as I can."

x.x.x.x.x

They stepped out of the shuttle and Knives began striding swiftly across the hangar. They were nearly to the door when it opened and an all-too-familiar face stepped through, followed by over a dozen soldiers who fanned out in front of them, cutting off their exit.

"Millions Knives. Still alive, I see," Garrow called out congenially, obviously putting on a show for his clueless underlings. "It's been a while. A word of advice: next time you break into a ship, at least _try_ to avoid the security cameras," he said, waving at a small device in the corner of the hangar. "Thought you were smarter than that. Nice shirt, by the way."

Knives only glared in response, his hold on Kira tightening as he took stock of the situation. There were too many of them. Far too many. He was already spending most of his energy shielding Kira. He couldn't protect her _and_ carry out a telepathic assault at the same time. And if he could only do one, the choice was easy…

"Not feeling chatty, huh? Well, I guess I'll get right to it then. You're under arrest. You are to release your injured captive to one of my men and place your hands on the ground."

"Go to hell!" he spat, glancing around the room for any means of escape.

Garrow simply narrowed his eyes. "If you do not comply, we will be forced to take action," he intoned. "So, please—keep trying to piss me off."

Shit. Knives glanced down at Kira. She was staring at the soldiers, her face white as she clutched tightly to him. She was scared. And he really couldn't blame her. He clenched his jaw in frustration, feeling infuriatingly powerless, feeling trapped, as he returned his stony gaze to their antagonists, unsure of what to do.

"I'm getting bored, here," Garrow quipped. "You going to go quietly or do you need a little more persuasion?" He sneered. "How about I sweeten the deal? You give her up, put your hands on the ground, and I promise to release her, unharmed."

Dammit! Where the hell was Vash? There were no options left. "I'll… I'll surrender. But you must promise not to take her from me."

"And why the hell would I agree to that?"

"Because I'm shielding her!" he bit out. "Isn't this what you wanted—for one of your 'subjects' to survive—"

"That's enough," Garrow barked, cutting him off. "No deal. I don't negotiate with scum like you. You—go get him," he said with a gesture. "The rest of you, back them up."

The sound of guns being cocked resounded through the large chamber, and the four men Garrow had signaled to began moving forward, while the others stood at the ready.

"Don't come any closer!" Knives yelled, inching backward, his gaze sweeping over the cautiously approaching soldiers. He had to try _something_! He mentally reached out for the one closest to them and the man let out a strangled cry of surprise, which startled the others. A shot rang out, grazing Knives' shoulder, breaking his concentration and drawing a shriek from Kira.

His grip slipped and he dropped to his knees, setting her on the ground and tucking her against his chest. She was clearly panicked, white surrounding her irises as she gaped at the scene before her. He reached out again, desperately grasping at the minds of newly determined soldiers, trying to push them back, but his energy was stretched too thin. He couldn't control them and shield Kira at the same time. Shit!

There was a sudden clattering from the hallway and the soldiers paused. The door to the hangar burst open and a flash of red whirled in. The figure vaulted past the stunned soldiers until he was standing protectively in front of Knives and Kira, his revolver and gun arm both raised and ready to fire.

"Thought you might need a hand!" Vash called over his shoulder at the pair behind him.

As he spoke, a second group of soldiers came charging through the door, but stopped short when they saw the battlefield before them.

Reinforcements.

Great.

"I'll take it Garrow's soldiers weren't as amenable as you'd hoped?" Knives barbed.

Vash let out a sheepish laugh. "Don't know. Didn't really have time to speak to 'em. Kinda ran through as fast as I could."

Garrow was barking orders, but even with a new influx of forces, he seemed hesitant to attack now that Vash was in play.

"Guess now's as good a time as any. Stay behind me," Vash ordered tensely before clearing his throat. "Soldiers of the Cassiopeia—my name is Vash the Stampede. You may have heard of me," he said, with a lopsided grin. "I'd like to end this peacefully," he continued. "I came to rescue my friends, so… uh… if you could… just let us go, that'd be great…?"

If he wasn't still holding Kira, Knives would've slapped a palm to his face. Brilliant fucking plan.

"Your friends?" Garrow choked out in disbelief. "You mean 'brother,' don't you? You came to rescue the man who tried to wipe humanity from this planet. The man who will probably try it again!"

"I came to rescue the man you tortured, asshole," Vash shot back. "And he isn't a going to hurt anyone. I'll make sure of that. _You're_ more of a threat that he is!" Vash paused, his eyes scanning across the confused faces in front of him before he addressed the soldiers again. "Your captain has been experimenting on people. He's broken the law. A team from Octovern will be arriving tomorrow to relieve him of his post. I'm asking you to hold him captive until they get here."

"That's a crock of shit!" Garrow barked. "I haven't done a goddamn thing!"

"If that's the case, then why don't you surrender quietly and explain it to Chronica when she gets here," Vash prodded.

"Surrender? On my _own fucking ship_! You got some balls. Take him to the brig, along with the girl," he bellowed. "Kill Knives. Bastard should be dead already, anyway."

No one moved and Garrow cast a furious glare at the men around him.

"Now!"

The soldiers glanced back and forth amongst each other. It seemed no one wanted to move first.

"For fuck's sake!" Garrow snarled, ripping a gun from the hands of the man beside him.

Vash's shot rang out instantly and the gun skidded across the floor, knocked cleanly out of Garrow's hands. Unfortunately, the attack seemed to rouse the soldiers to action. Knives watched the scene unfold as if in slow motion. A few soldiers began raising their weapons and Vash fired preemptively, trying to disarm them, but his efforts only served to inflame others.

As more soldiers entered the fray, it became clear he wouldn't win this fight. Besides being egregiously outnumbered, the idiot was already injured and was moving more slowly than normal. On top of that, he had planted himself in front of Knives and Kira, using his body to protect them. He wasn't running and dodging like he normally would. Knives watched in horror as a cluster of shots hit Vash, knocking him roughly to the ground and sending the revolver sliding away.

Vash grunted, pushing himself up, and spit a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

Shit! Was bulletproof was an overstatement?

He let out a furious shout, and threw himself in front of his brother as another volley rang out. He closed his eyes tightly and braced himself, but instead of pain and the sound of bullets hitting flesh, a series of strange, oddly familiar _thwoks_ followed.

The shooting stopped. The soldiers gasped in amazement and began murmuring in muted tones. Knives opened his eyes and let out a sharp breath of surprise.

A mass of curved, ribbon-like blades snaked out of Kira's left arm, curving around the three of them like a shield. She was trembling, staring at her arm in horror. "I… I don't… know how…?" she stammered, her breathing bordering on hyperventilation. Tears filled her eyes as she looked at him for help.

"It's okay," he whispered softly, going to her. "You're okay. It's okay… Just relax, and you'll return to form."

"You gotta be kidding me," Garrow burst out. "Now? Now it fucking works!"

The blades slowly receded back into Kira's arm and a pregnant silence filled the air. Even Garrow seemed unsure on how to proceed. Hopefully he had enough sense to realize how dangerous Kira was, should he continue his attack. It was clear that she had absolutely no control over her abilities. If the captain pushed her, she'd likely end up killing someone… probably _a lot_ of someones.

"Holy shit," Vash murmured, glancing over at Kira, then back at the soldiers. There was a dribble of blood at the corner of his mouth, but he didn't seem gravely injured, much to Knives' relief. "Uh… truce?" he called out lightly, climbing to his feet and raising his hands. "Please. We really don't want to fight. Chronica will speak for us when she gets here, and you can lock us up until then, if you want, but you really should lock him up too."

Garrow bristled. "Ain't gonna happen. Arrest them!" he shouted with sudden ferocity. Again, no one moved. "You useless sons of bitches, I said arres—"

"Sir." One of the men interrupted the captain's furious invective. "Maybe it would be best if you turned yourself in… for the time being."

"You cannot seriously think… You're turning on me! You realize this is mutiny. This is a punishable offense."

"Please, sir. It's just a temporary measure until we can get this sorted."

"You… you fucking _traitors_!" Garrow continued roaring objections, which quickly devolved into a slew of curses as several of his men tried to reason with him, but were forced to wrestle him into a pair of handcuffs when he began throwing punches. The rest turned their attention on the intruders.

Knives looked down at Kira again, alarm rising inside him. "Don't let them separate us, Vash. I'm shielding her. We need to stay together."

"Okay. Just let me handle it." He walked gingerly over to the soldiers, his hands still raised. "May we speak for a moment?" He began murmuring quietly with them, occasionally gesturing toward his brother.

Knives glanced down at Kira, who seemed to be in shock. She stared blankly across the room at Garrow, still fighting as his men tried to lead him away, but she didn't seem to be entirely… there. He pulled her closer and turned his attention back to Vash, who nodded sharply at the soldiers and walked back to Knives, kneeling down with a wince.

"They've agreed to put us in one of the crew dorms. We'll be locked in and guarded, but we'll be together. They said they'll send a doc in too, and I asked for Michaels. Sound good?"

Knives felt a mixture of disbelief and relief flood through him. He exhaled heavily. "Yes. That's… Yes."

"Good." Vash looked down, uncomfortably. "So… they want us in handcuffs. Um… and they said they'll bring a wheelchair for Kira."

Knives frowned but nodded. "Hey," he said gently, squeezing her shoulder. She let out a shaking breath and Knives took it as a sign that she was listening. "Did you hear that?" When she didn't respond, he went on. "They have to cuff me, but… we'll be together. Okay…? Kira…?"

She shivered and seemed to wake from her daze a little. Her eyes drifted up to him, though her expression was still vacant. He gave her a half smile, leaning down to kiss her temple, before pulling away, and handing her over to one of the soldiers.

He stood, obediently letting them fix a pair of cuffs around his wrists as a chair was brought from one of the shuttles.

This was… okay. This was fine.

As long as they didn't take her out of his sight, everything would be fine.

x.x.x.x.x

After taking what weapons and ammo they found on the twins, the soldiers escorted them silently through the halls and deposited them in a small dormitory that contained two sets of bunked beds, two dressers, a small bathroom, and not much else. Once the door was secure, they uncuffed Knives and Vash, and helped Kira onto one of the lower bunks. She looked up at them a mumbled a thanks. Her shock seemed to be fading, at least.

The soldiers left and Knives sat down at the end of her bed, while Vash took the now unoccupied wheelchair, groaning as he sat.

"You're hurt," she mumbled.

"Heh, yeah," Vash said with a false grin. "It happens. It's really not that bad."

"Thanks for saving us," she said tiredly.

Vash smiled earnestly at her and reached out to squeeze her hand. "No thanks necessary. I'm just so glad you're alive." His bottom lip began quivering but he held it together. "Besides, you did a good amount of life-saving, yourself!"

"Oh. Right. Yeah." Her face remained devoid of emotion. So… maybe the shock hadn't _entirely_ worn off.

A soft knock on the door interrupted their conversation and Michaels entered the room. Knives was surprisingly glad to see a somewhat familiar face.

x.x.x.x.x

The doc lightly chastised them for not waiting, as he'd asked, but he seemed pleased that they'd found Kira. He checked her injuries first and, after a brief analysis of her physical state, deemed she was stable enough to remain where she was, at least for the time being.

Knives briefly wondered if she'd heal faster now, which led him to ponder about her lifespan, but he quickly pushed the thoughts from his mind. There were more pressing matters to deal with. Besides, only time would tell if her aging had slowed.

The doc gave her a dose of pain medication and insisted she stay in bed and not strain herself, before turning his attention on Vash. He seemed annoyed that the aqua-eyed plant had been in a gunfight so soon after being patched up, but quickly got to work.

It turned out Vash's coat _was_ bulletproof, but he'd taken a beating when struck by the barrage of bullets. A pair of cracked ribs was the worst of the damage, but he also had some rather severe swelling and bruising, and apparently he'd bit his cheek, which had caused the bleeding from his mouth. His 'care' was mostly some antiseptic for a handful of abrasions, and his own dose of painkillers.

Knives was last, and his injury where the bullet had grazed his shoulder was so minor, he almost refused treatment.

By the time the doc had finished with everything, Kira was fast asleep. The twins thanked him and he promised to return in the morning, before bidding them goodbye. Left to themselves, they sat together on the other bottom bunk and stared across the room silently.

Knives was the first to speak. "What do you think Chronica is going to do when she finds us here?"

Vash snorted. "Kill us. Meryl too, for that matter." He grinned for a moment, but it quickly faded. "They'll understand. I'm more worried about everyone else—the rest of the Federation. Not sure if we'll be able to keep you a secret after this…"

Knives let out a huff. "If they take me in and put me on trial again, it'll be worth it. You have to promise me you'll look after Kira if they do, though."

"Of course," Vash answered hurriedly. A small wrinkle formed between his brows. "So… it was the serum, right?"

Knives nodded.

"You think she'll be okay?"

"I don't know," he answered stiffly. "I'm not going to worry about it until her body has healed. We can deal with it then." He paused. "Vash… if they _do_ take me in, you can't let her out of your sight. They'll want her—Garrow, and the techs, and other people like them."

"I know," he murmured. "I know that. I won't let that happen again," he said swallowing thickly.

Tessla. The name went unspoken, but they both heard it.

"I don't plan on letting them take you either, though," he added.

"Don't worry. It'll be fine… We'll all be fine." Knives said, trying to convince himself as much as his brother.

x.x.x.x.x

The painkillers caught up with Vash and he was soon snoring loudly, stretched out across the bottom bunk. Knives lay down on the top bunk above Kira, and stared at the ceiling, tracing his scars. He'd considered curling up beside her, but he didn't want to wake her. She needed rest more than he needed comfort.

He needed rest too…

His eyes grew heavy as he continued staring, trying not to think about anything. As usual, there was far too much to worry about. It was better if he stayed firmly grounded in the present moment. His fingers danced over the scars, the physical sensation providing a welcome distraction.

Eventually the weight of his eyelids became too much and he fell into a weary slumber.


	30. Chapter 30

A wailing moan tore through the air, startling Knives awake. He rolled off the top bunk, a moment before he remembered where the hell he was and landed heavily on the floor where he found Kira, curled into a ball on her bunk, clutching at her head and trembling violently.

Shit! The shield!

He put it back up and her cries stopped instantly, though her breathing was still fast and erratic.

"What's going on?" Vash called out as he made his way across the room, but Knives was too busy tending to Kira to answer.

He ran his fingers gently through her hair and whispered quiet, soothing words to her.

"I can't do this," she whimpered, wiping a hand over her cheeks, her eyes still full of tears. "I can't do it. I can't! I tried to push them out but there's so many. There's just—there's too many!"

"Shhh, it's okay. You're safe," he murmured softly. "What happened just now was my fault," he admitted. "I thought I could maintain the shield subconsciously while I slept, but apparently that is not the case." A wrinkle formed between his brows. How were they going to deal with this hiccup going forward? The telepathy didn't seem to affect her while she slept, so they could try to sleep at the same time, but if she rose before him again…? "Maybe Vash and I can take turns shielding you at night," he pondered aloud.

"Yeah!" Vash chirped up. "I can do that!"

She looked up at Knives, exhaustion lining her face. "Is it always going to be like this?"

He shook his head firmly, almost angrily. "No. It may take time, but your mind _will_ adjust."

"… And if it doesn't?"

"Then I'll keep shielding you," he said with resolve. "_We_ will," he amended, glancing over at Vash.

"I'm scared," she choked out, her voice on the verge of breaking. "I'm… I just… This is so much… and I…" She let out a shuddering breath. "I just wish things could go back to normal. I wish…" She took another unsteady breath, her bottom lip trembling. "I wish my m-mom was here." She shattered as soon as the words left her mouth. Her face crumpled and wretched sobs shook her shoulders.

He had no idea what to do. The last comment had completely thrown him. They hadn't really discussed her family since they arrived in Octovern, ages ago. He knew he should comfort her and that she'd forgiven him, but it felt strange to do so after a statement like that.

Vash gave him an exasperated shove, ending his hesitation.

Right.

Knives pulled her into his chest and did his best to calm her, holding her close and stroking her back. And slowly, very slowly, her sobs subsided. Once her breathing had finally returned to normal, she pulled away and he let his arms drop. She wiped tears from her cheeks a second time, and looked up at him, her face red.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, knowing the apology was entirely insufficient. His apologies always were—always would be. Words would never be enough to make up for his past mistakes. Not for her. Not for Vash. Not for anyone. "Is there anything I can do?"

She swallowed thickly and shook her head, glancing at Vash before fixing her gaze on the covers. "It's just… a lot. All of this. And you. And everything before. And… I'm so tired of things changing all the time. I'm just… I'm just tired."

"You should try to rest," he said gently. "Both of you," he added with a quick look at Vash. They'd need their energy to heal. "I'll stay awake. I promise, I won't leave you unprotected again."

She nodded and laid her head on the pillow, her back to him, pulling the blanket tightly around her shoulders. Knives took it as his cue to leave, though he couldn't help but worry about the aloof behavior. _Was_ she upset with him? Maybe she hadn't forgiven him as much as he thought. Yes, she cried in his arms—she let him embrace her—but maybe she was just too tired and distraught to push him away.

Did she blame him for all of this? It wouldn't surprise him. It was his fault.

Everything that had gone wrong in her life was his fault.

He _had_ to make it up to her. He _had_ to protect her—to find some way to fix this.

Vash returned to his bed as well, sinking into it with a pained groan. He'd probably be aching for a few more days. His ribs would take a while to heal fully.

Knives found a spot on the floor where he could sit with his back against a wall. This would do. Though his eyes were still heavy he wouldn't let them fall closed. Instead, he stared blankly across the room and allowed his mind drift through probabilities, and strategies, and occasionally even optimistic dreams. He tried to think of every possible outcome that might await them, while the sounds of Kira and Vash, both deep in peaceful slumber, created a comforting backdrop.

He needed a plan. Was there any way to shift the board so they would all survive—any way they could stay together? It seemed impossible. Too much of their fate depended on forces outside of his control. He hated being so helpless.

x.x.x.x.x

A soft knock on the door work Vash and Kira the following morning, and a pair of soldiers entered, carrying three trays of food. The companions ate silently, and after breakfast, Vash took over shielding Kira, giving Knives a chance to rest.

He fell asleep quickly and woke up several hours later to find Vash and Kira chatting quietly on her bunk. He immediately hopped down and took in her appearance. He was pleased to find that some of the tension had eased from her face, and her color was more vibrant.

"You missed the doc," Vash said cheerfully, an obnoxious grin curving his lips. How could he be lighthearted at a time like this? "He thought sleep was the best thing for you, so he didn't wake you up."

The man was probably right. "What did he say about you two?"

"Said we both look like we're on the mend. He was surprised to see a noticeable improvement in Kira's wound," Vash said, giving her a light nudge. "Guess she's healing faster now."

She grimaced. She clearly wasn't pleased with her new trait, even if it was beneficial.

"How are you feeling?" Knives asked, turning to her, unable to mask the concern in his voice.

"Still a little… overwhelmed," she admitted, "but better."

He offered her a false smile, hoping it looked better Vash's usually did. He didn't like the reservation in her voice, but… he supposed it was understandable. It would take time for her to adjust to the various changes—changes she had never asked for. Changes she didn't seem to want…

_Why_ didn't she want this? The question gnawed at him. The telepathy he could understand, but the rest of it…

Fuck. He pushed the question out of his head. It really didn't matter 'why.' It was simply the truth of the situation. She didn't want to be a plant and it would take time for her to adjust to her new reality. He needed to patient. And he needed to do whatever he could to help her through it. His opinion on the matter was unimportant.

x.x.x.x.x

It was late afternoon when the door slid open and Chronica stepped through, not even trying to conceal the venom in her gaze. Both Vash and Knives stood and greeted her sheepishly. Kira, who was sitting on the bed, propped up against a pillow, waved hello, a smile brightening her features.

Chronica smiled back, her wrath momentarily suspended. "It's good to see you," she said warmly. "I'm glad you are still with us."

"Yeah, me too," Kira said, half joking and half sincere. "It's all thanks to these two."

Chronica's expression soured again. "Yes. So I've heard," she said, turning to the twins. "It seems you caused quite a commotion."

"Well, you see—"

"We had to—"

They spoke at the same time, and both stopped instantly, waiting for the other to continue.

Chronica smirked and went on. "You'll be happy to know that we have arrested Garrow. We'll be taking him back to Octovern when we return."

"Dark Eyes!" Knives said suddenly, realizing he'd forgotten to alert anyone to the bastard's presence. "The last of the techs! I left him unconscious on the shuttle, but I forgot to tell the soldiers about him."

To be fair, he'd been somewhat distracted at the time… The bastard had probably escaped by now.

"Well, we already know his identity, thanks to the others. It won't take long to find him. The real question is what we should do about _you_," she said, her gaze fixed on Knives. "They contacted the admiral before I arrived. He was already aware of our venture to arrest Garrow and is supportive of it, but _you_ are an entirely different matter. He's on his way here. Apparently, he wants to deal with this in person."

Vash made a face. "Can't you… I don't know… just leave our door unlocked or something?"

She shook her head. "I'm in enough trouble as it is for keeping Knives a secret. Besides, they have a very thorough detail on guard," she said, gesturing to the door. "You wouldn't make it very far. Especially unarmed. And I assume you'd want to bring Kira with you?" she said, raising a brow, highlighting the fact that Kira couldn't possibly sprint through a ship full of enemy soldiers in her current state. When neither brother spoke, she let out an annoyed huff at their lack of foresight. "There's another matter we need to discuss. I need to know what happened yesterday. The stories I heard were rather… dramatic."

Knives pursed his lips, glancing over at Vash and Kira, both of whom remained silent, giving him the chance to answer. He trusted Chronica, but he didn't want more people than necessary to know about Kira. Then again, the blond already knew half of the story. She'd probably guessed the rest and would likely be their greatest ally in keeping Kira safe.

Only slightly regretting his decision, he explained what had happened, including the pertinent details of Kira's situation and requirements for her ongoing survival. Chronica looked appalled.

"I see," she murmured when he finished. She walked over to Kira and sat on the edge of the bed, an expression of sympathy on her face. "And how are you?"

Kira let out a weary, mirthless laugh. "I keep switching back and forth between terrified and numb, honestly."

Chronica nodded, her brows knitted together. "I'm sure. Would you be willing to come with me and speak to a few of my associates?"

"No!" Knives barked, panic surging inside him. "Not without me!"

Chronica's eyes darted to him. "_You_ are too hot-headed for this. Besides, it's _her _decision, not yours. I can take over shielding her—she'll be fine." She turned back to Kira. "I want you to meet my commander and a few of the plants on my team. I want them to see firsthand what Garrow has done to you."

Kira frowned, but nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay… Okay."

Knives made a complaining noise and she looked over at him.

"I'll be with Chronica—it'll be fine."

"Um… maybe I should come too?" Vash asked.

Chronica paused, thinking. "Yes, I believe they would like the chance to meet you as well. But you must promise to be on your best behavior, and you must let me take the lead."

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

She hummed. "Very well. Then let's be on our way," she said, rising. "Time is of the essence, after all. The more people we can get on our side before the admiral arrives, the better."

Vash grabbed the wheelchair and moved it to where Kira had pushed herself off the bed. She really was healing quickly. She sank into it with a grunt and Vash pushed her to the door. He cast a short, apologetic look at Knives, but they both knew they didn't have much say in the matter. This was their best option.

Chronica knocked and the guards let them out, closing the door securely behind them.

And now, he was alone. Trapped. And Kira was no longer under his protection.

His mind ran wild.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira gazed nervously at the astonished group of people peering down upon her.

"A plant…?" said one woman curiously. Kira made note of her shining blond hair and her perfectly symmetric, regal features. One of the plants, most likely.

"Yes," Chronica answered.

"She may not look it, but you can feel the energy coming from her gate," Vash added.

The woman stepped forward, approaching Kira. "May I?" she asked.

It took Kira half a moment to understand what she wanted. She extended her left arm compliantly. "Go ahead."

The woman placed her hand over the gate and took a sharp breath in, obviously surprised.

"But… she wasn't like this before?" the woman asked, stepping back as a few more of the figures came over to examine Kira's gate.

Vash nodded. "She was human."

"Yesterday, her energy manifested physically," Chronica explained. "That's what happened in the hangar. It appears she has first gen attributes, probably a result of using Knives' DNA to create the serum."

The figures glanced at each other warily.

"Is it possible to get a demonstration?" a man with tightly cropped hair and a goatee asked.

Kira blanched. They wanted… a demonstration? Just the memory of the inexplicably gray 'flesh,' twisted and deformed, coming from _her_ arm made her shudder. And the _feeling_ of it. The prickling, almost throbbing vibration of the energy pulsing down through those… those _blades_. And knowing that she had somehow made it happen. It was a _part of her_ now. It was petrifying.

Not to mention the fact that she had absolutely no idea of how _any_ of it worked. Even if she wanted to demonstrate, she couldn't.

"I don't know how," she answered honestly, hoping it would be enough to get her out of it.

"She doesn't have control yet," Vash added.

Several of the figures who'd inspected her gate nodded, seeming to understand. Definitely plants.

"And she cannot survive the telepathy?" the man asked.

"We're not willing to drop the shield to find out," Vash answered a little tersely.

The first woman who had spoken surveyed him sympathetically. "You're shielding her now?"

"Yeah."

She turned to Kira. "Could you describe what it feels like when you aren't being shielded?"

"It's… it's loud. It's like there's this… roar of… of voices and… emotions? And… I don't know. Thoughts? But… they're sharp. It's like they're cutting me. Or… ripping at me. It's hard to explain," she finished lamely.

The woman nodded. "And… Millions Knives," she said, her eyes meeting Chronica's. "You're sure he's innocent in all of this? He's not just trying to create his own army?"

"I'm sure," Chronica answered firmly.

"They used him," Kira murmured, thinking back on when Garrow had described the cruel experiments he'd witnessed. "They tortured him. Garrow had a vendetta against him. None of this is his fault." She raised her eyes. "What will you do with him?"

"You're worried about him," someone asked, incredulous.

Kira nodded. "Yes, I am. Very much so."

"That matter will be discussed when the admiral arrives," Chronica answered quickly. "But I'll do what I can," she affirmed. "He did manage to rescue you without killing anyone. There may be hope for him yet." She offered a wry smile, easing Kira's heart just a little.

x.x.x.x.x

Knives was laying on his bunk when they returned. He practically fell off of it in his rush to get to them. "Are you okay," he said hurriedly, dropping to a knee beside Kira's chair, his blue eyes wide.

She couldn't help but smile in amusement. "I'm fine. They were actually pretty nice," she said, hoping to calm him down.

His tension seemed to ease, just a bit. "Would you like me to take over," he said, glancing up at Vash, who rolled his eyes at Knives' imperious need for control.

"Go ahead."

Kira felt the transition as Knives put a barrier around her and Vash let his fall away. It was strange, experiencing the difference in their energies. Knives' was so much sharper. More astringent. It flickered and prickled like sparks between them. Vash's was soft. Almost like a static field around her.

"Vash, I'd actually like you to come with me to meet with a few more people and discuss… well… Knives," Chronica said bluntly. "I think it might be most effective if you were there to help represent him."

"I can't represent myself?" Knives said hotly, drawing a cutting laugh from Chronica.

"Not if you want to make it through this alive." Her eyes sparkled. "Just stay with Kira, and let your brother and I handle this mess."

He glowered, but didn't complain any further. Chronica and Vash exited, leaving Knives and Kira on their own. Kira grunted and pushed herself up out of the chair. Knives quickly put an arm out to help her, but she gently nudged him away.

"It's okay. I can do it," she said, sitting down on the bed on her own.

He nodded and sat beside her quietly. They both stared aimlessly across the room before he finally broke the silence. "So. Is there anything you'd like to know?"

"About?"

"I thought you might have… questions. About being a plant."

A sardonic smile curved her lips. "Only about everything."

"Anything you'd like to start with?"

Her lips tightened for a moment. "The blades." They'd been weighing on her more than anything. "I feel like… like I really could have hurt someone."

"Your fear is understandable, but I can assure you, they're easy to control," he said quickly. He took her hand, raising it so it was extended in front of her. "It's… You have to…" His brows knitted together as he tried to find the right words. "The energy listens to your mind. All you have to do is _will_ it to extend, and it will obey."

Kira frowned, staring at her hand in his. "But… is there a way to get it _not_ to do that?"

"You're afraid you'll create a blade unintentionally?"

"Yeah."

"The only way that can happen is if your conscious mind relinquishes control. Your manifestation yesterday was more of an instinctive reaction. Your energy was drawn out subconsciously by the intensity of the situation."

"But that won't normally happen?"

"No. If we weren't pinned down and our lives weren't in danger, I don't think it would have happened at all." He paused briefly. "So… would you like to try it? Creating a blade?" he asked, raising a brow and dropping his hand from her still extended arm.

She wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Now?"

He smirked. "A little practice might ease your mind."

"And… and you're sure I won't hurt anyone?"

His smile softened. "I promise. Your energy will obey you."

Okay… okay.

After a final moment of hesitation, she let out a deep breath, and concentrated, visualizing, almost _feeling_ a tiny pulse of energy spiking from her arm. A comically small blade no larger than a pocketknife arced out gracefully, drawing a gasp from Kira. Knives hadn't been lying; it really was easy! Though it still _looked_ strange, the blade was the size she'd imagined in her mind. She wondered how much control she had over it. Could she…

The blade grew a longer and snaked around her forearm. She reached out with her other hand and hovered over strange, gray material. She was amazed at the heat radiating from it. She ran a finger along the blade and jumped in surprise when she could actually _feel_ it!

Knives released a low chuckled beside her.

"That's…" She didn't know what to say. Amazing? Horrifying? Overwhelming, for sure. She tried to pull the blade back in and it withdrew immediately. She ran her fingers over the now smooth skin of her arm. "I… I know you said I have control, but have you ever created a blade accidentally? I mean, not because of some subconscious thing, but… I don't know. Like when you were angry or something?"

A pang of guilt twisted his features. "When I was angry, yes. But it was never accidental," he said slowly. Regretfully. "The blades were my preferred method…"

For killing. Her stomach knotted at his unspoken words. At the grotesque reality of what he was saying.

"I thought they made me invincible. Safe. But I was… mistaken." He looked away, shame written plainly on his face. "I was wrong. In so many ways," he murmured.

"Knives." It suddenly clicked. "Your name?"

"Yes," he confirmed, looking slightly embarrassed. "When Vash and I were children and we first began exhibiting displays of our energies, his looked like feathers, and mine looked like… well, like yours. I asked Rem if I could change my name to Millions Knives because I thought it was… cool." He winced, pink coloring his cheeks.

She giggled. It felt amazingly good to laugh. "Knives…" she said, trying to imagine the precocious little plant pleading with Rem to call him something that was so… unsubtle. "And Vash had… feathers?"

He nodded, his lips curving into small smile.

She wrinkled her nose. "Did I inherit this from you, then? The 'blade-like' energy?"

"I suspect that might be the case, though I can't say for sure. I've never seen another plant's energy, besides Vash's, and the second gen plants like Chronica can't manifest their energy like we can." He shrugged. "There isn't much basis for comparison."

"Right." She paused and made a second, still very small blade before drawing it back into her arm. "Okay. So, anything else can I do?"

"The angel arm. Although I suspect Chronica really would kill me if I showed you how to use _that_."

Another weapon? Must be. In that case, she didn't even want to know.

"What else?" she asked.

"Telepathy, obviously. You'll be able to do all of the things I did to you, once you gain control. You also have increased physical functions—healing, dexterity, reflexes. That's how you were able to react so quickly when the guns fired."

Interesting. "Strength?"

"Not so much. But your body will respond more quickly to exercise and that sort of thing. It easier to maintain your peak physical condition."

"So… healing. How much faster is it?"

He grinned. "Normally, you'll heal about three times as fast as a human."

She flinched when he said 'human.' Just another reminder that she no longer was one. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice.

"You'll also be able to recover from more extreme injuries. Things that would kill a human are not necessarily fatal to us. And, it's technically possible to use your energy to heal yourself, but it's not worth the drain, except in an emergency. Remember, you only have a limited amount. Once your energy is gone—"

"I die," she finished. "And… my lifespan?"

His breath caught and he shifted nervously. "It's probable… At least, I hope…" He raised his eyes. "I believe your lifespan might have been extended—your aging slowed. But it's hard to be certain."

She nodded, her heart beating a little faster. She wasn't entirely sure of how to feel about that. Yes, it took down one of the main complications between her and Knives, but at what cost? If he was right—if her life were extended—she'd have to watch helplessly as her human friends died around her. Meryl and Millie… She couldn't quite bring herself to be happy about it.

His voice disrupted her musings. "Do you…?" He paused. "So much has happened, and your feelings may have changed, so I must ask… Do you still wish to be with me?" He stared at her anxiously, his bearing exuding a tightly coiled tension. He seemed to be preparing for the worst.

She gave him a look of confusion. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

"Because this is all my fault. And… after what you said last night…"

Her brows furrowed. Last night? What had she…?

"You 'wished your mother were here,'" he clarified, reading her expression. "And I thought that… maybe you have regrets?" He looked away.

Oh. Right.

"First—this wasn't your fault. At all. And second—what I said last night… Yes, I miss that comfort. I do. And not just my mom, but all of them. I'll always miss them, and I'll always wish they were still here with me, and I am sorry if that makes you feel guilty, but it doesn't change how I feel about you." She put a hand on his. "I know who you are. And I've accepted what happened for what it was."

"It was a mistake," he said softly, tightening his fingers around hers.

"It was a mistake," she repeated.

"And I regret it." He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "I don't… understand… how you are able to forgive me. But, I want you to know how much it means to me," he said, meeting her eyes. "I'm grateful to have met you. And I know you don't feel as I do, but I want you to know how much I love you."

Her heart thumped in her chest as words of reciprocation caught in her throat. Somehow, she still couldn't bring herself to release them. Instead, she nodded, lacing her fingers with his. "I'm grateful too." She leaned into him so her head was resting against his shoulder. "I… I wish you could have met them."

He placed a kiss on her temple. "So do I."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira was once again sleeping when Vash returned, carrying their bags. It seems the soldiers had taken them in as evidence from the hotel, and Knives was incredibly grateful for a change of clothes. He perked up as his brother walked through the door, carefully shifting Kira's head from where it rested on his arm to a pillow. He climbed out of bed, careful not to wake her and caught the bag his brother tossed to him.

"Well?" Knives asked, keeping his voice low so they didn't wake Kira.

Vash sat tiredly on his bunk and winced, a hand going to his ribs. "We spoke with the admiral over the sat-phone and explained what's going on. He's pretty embarrassed about the whole situation. I guess he was vaguely aware that Garrow had 'found a way' to make terraforming happen, but the admiral didn't really know the details. He entrusted it all to Garrow and never imagined that _this_ was what the captain was working on. He's appalled by what happened to Kira and all the others who didn't make it. He promised she'll be protected from any kind of compulsory experimentation, but I think he's hoping she'll willingly submit to some testing."

"I'd rather she didn't," Knives bristled.

"It's her choice."

"… I know."

Vash looked at him even more seriously. "We also discussed you. He's not sure what to do with you. Technically, your sentence still stands—"

Knives let out a harsh laugh, hoping it would mask the fear that weighed like a rock in the pit of his stomach. Execution. The universe must really love fucking with him. "I take it they'll make sure I'm actually dead this time."

"It doesn't matter. I won't let it get that far. We told him about everything you did. You're the one who shed light on what Garrow was up to. And we told him about everything that happened to you while you were imprisoned, and about Tessla, and how you feel about humans now."

How he felt about humans? He wasn't even sure—not entirely. He was ashamed for judging them so broadly; ashamed for drawing conclusions with so little evidence to support his views; ashamed for dismissing them as primarily selfish, ignorant, and vicious creatures. But… they still made mistakes. And they still made him nervous. They probably always would.

Vash went on. "I think he actually sympathizes with what you went through. He's going to hold a meeting when he arrives tomorrow, and he wants us to be there. Kinda like an informal trial, I think. We'll discuss all of this and he'll make a decision on how to proceed."

Knives nodded.

"Listen," Vash said gently, "I know this is a lot, and you're probably nervous, or angry, or whatever, but you _have_ to try to work with him—with the Federation in general. There will probably be suggestions that you don't agree with, but you _can't_ overreact. Your opinion is just that—an opinion. Not a fact."

"I understand." The situation was delicate. He needed to keep his temper in check.

"You have to be willing to compromise. Just… know that I'm on your side. So are Kira and Chronica. We'll be there together, so trust us to support you. It's probably best if you let us do the fighting—you just keep quiet unless they ask you something directly."

Knives nodded again. This was going to be difficult but… "I'll try."


	31. Chapter 31

The soldiers arrived shortly after breakfast to escort them to see the admiral. Only Knives was put into a pair of cuffs. Though he held his indignation inside, it irritated him that _he_ was only one considered to be a threat when _Vash_ had done all the shooting and _Kira_ had produced the blades. For once, he'd actually been somewhat innocent.

But… he would always be the 'villain.'

He didn't entirely understand why Kira was willing to overlook his reprehensibly violent past. He was grateful that she did, though. And he wasn't an idiot—after their conversation the previous night, he wouldn't question her any further about it. He didn't want to push her into second guessing her decision to be with him more than he already had. Still, he marveled at her forgiveness.

They walked through the maze of hallways and were brought into a chamber containing a long conference table. Chronica was seated a few chairs down from the head, and the soldiers led Vash, Knives, and Kira to the three empty spots beside her. The brothers took the first two, and the third was pulled out of the way to make room for Kira's wheelchair. The rest of the seats were filled with unfamiliar faces.

Knives felt his pulse quicken, but kept his expression carefully neutral.

"Now that everyone is here," said the dark-skinned man at the head of the table, "I'd like to begin by introducing myself. For those of you who don't know me," he continued, staring directly at the twins and Kira, "my name is Admiral Olowe, head of the 'Pieces of Earth' Diplomatic Fleet. As I'm sure you are all aware," he glanced around the room at the other attendees, "we are here to discuss the fate of these three individuals who were mistreated by the Cassiopeia's dishonorably discharged former captain, James Garrow. This is an _unofficial_ meeting."

His deep voice resonated through the space. He waited until all eyes were on him before he continued, ensuring that everyone was focused on what he was about to say.

"I repeat, this is _unofficial_. This 'informal conversation' is of the highest clearance level. None of what is said here is to be repeated. We have already spoken to the soldiers who were present at the battle—they have been ordered to keep silent about everything they saw. The public _cannot_ know that Millions Knives is still alive until we've decided how to proceed. That being said, this _is_ an open discussion. Feel free to voice your opinions."

There were soft murmurs of assent from the men and women gathered around the table.

Olowe smiled, his eyes scanning over the room, and Knives was surprised when they briefly locked with his own. The man's gaze was kind—empty of the cold distrust Knives would have expected.

Olowe took a breath. "Okay. Let's start by going over the facts…"

x.x.x.x.x

The admiral began by outlining what had happened before handing the discussion over to Chronica, who filled in what she considered to be the 'pertinent' details. She told them _everything_. Far more than Knives was comfortable with. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised—her strategy wasn't exactly subtle. She was trying to show a different, more relatable side of him by explaining his motivations and what he'd suffered through. But he felt horribly naked, having so much of his personal history and relationships and trauma put on display for these strangers to muse over.

Still, he stayed silent. He kept his eyes down. He wouldn't interrupt. He wouldn't undermine her words by getting defensive. He _definitely _wouldn't try to justify any of his actions. He'd simply remain calm and amenable.

When she was finished, Olowe spoke again, and the admiral's first statement shocked Knives.

"I think we can all agree that Vash the Stampede deserves a full pardon on this matter. Despite the gunfight, few of our men were actually injured, and none of those injuries were serious. We are aware of your level of marksmanship," he said, turning to Vash, "and I'm sure you could have done a lot more damage if you'd wanted to." A knowing half-smile play over his lips.

Vash went red. "I… er… I didn't want to hurt anyone," he mumbled under his breath, a hand absently rubbing the back of his neck.

Olowe nodded. "As I surmised. Would anyone like to object to this decision?"

When no one spoke, he continued.

"Good, then the next matter is what to do with Millions Knives…"

x.x.x.x.x

The group's reaction was mixed. Some sympathized with what he'd gone through—especially the plants, after hearing about Tessla. Others believed that his crimes were too great for any kind of amnesty. Both Vash and Chronica spoke passionately in his favor, but their words swayed few. The discussion had been going on for over an hour, though little progress had been made toward finding a resolution both sides could agree on, when Olowe finally put an end to it, suggesting that they move on to other matters—namely, what to do with Kira.

All eyes turned to her and she shrank down in her chair, feeling very intimidated.

Once again, Chronica outlined the facts, elaborating on what she'd mentioned in her previous monologue. She also asked Kira a few questions about her run-in with Garrow. When she was finished, Olowe spoke, his gaze fixed on Kira.

"I have already agreed not to force you into any kind of experimentation; however, I would appreciate it if you participated willingly."

Knives let out a sharp breath, drawing Olowe's attention.

"You wish to speak?"

The plant narrowed his ice-blue eyes, glaring for a moment, before lowering them and shaking his head.

The admiral continued, turning back to Kira. "I can assure you, these tests will not be as painful or invasive like what your friend has endured. And if, at any point, you feel uncomfortable, you are free to walk away. We simply want to understand what has happened to you. Is this something you might consider?"

Silence fell and Kira looked around at the room full of faces, some of whom she recognized from the previous day, and all of whom were watching her curiously. She turned to Knives. She knew he had misgivings, but his eyes softened as they met hers and she could see the support in them. He'd go along with whatever she chose.

"I… think I'd be willing to participate," she finally answered. "I'd need to know more about it, but… yes. It's something I'd consider."

Olowe looked pleased. "Would you be willing to return to the lead ship in Octovern? I have a very skilled team of doctors familiar with treating plants who would love the opportunity to work with you."

She stared blankly for a moment. "Uh… yeah? I guess?"

"Wonderful. We'll need to go over the research Garrow's team accumulated. I'm told that no one has been able to adjust to the telepathic burden thus far, but we will do everything we can to help you. We can _at least_ offer you a long-term barrier. They'll likely need to drop it to test certain abilities, but we will make sure one of our plants is there to shield you."

Kira glanced at Knives, and then back at Olowe, a questioning wrinkle between her brows. "Knives can shield me," she said stiffly.

"We haven't decided what to do with him yet," he said, letting her fill in the blanks: Knives might now be 'around' to help her.

"He can shield me," she repeated firmly, hoping her understood _her_ subtext.

Olowe raised a brow. "I was planning on holding him in a more secure location until we decide to do with him. He will be taken care of."

"No," she said, shaking her head. Even if they could prove they were 'taking care' of him… just… no. "He stays with me or I won't do it."

"I see," he said, his lips quirking in amusement, his gaze shifting to Knives. "And would you be willing to shield her, without interfering in any other way, while she undergoes this process," he asked.

Knives blinked, his eyes widening slightly, and then nodded slowly. "I would."

"Then… I accept your terms," he said, turning back to Kira, his eyes twinkling. Murmurs of astonishment rolled through the room.

"Admiral, are you sure this is wise?" one of the men questioned, his tone sharp.

"I _must_ insist on a few precautionary measures," the admiral continued. "Are you both willing to be fitted with cerebral collars?"

It was Vash who spoke up. "Is that really necessary?" he asked, making a face. "Those things aren't exactly comfortable…"

The admiral let out a soft chuckle. "I believe it would actually be a benefit to them both. A collar would give us control over Kira's telepathic input so she wouldn't need to be shielded. I'd also feel much safer if we had some measure of control over _him_. I'm sure you can understand." He turned to Kira. "Is this acceptable?"

She looked over at Knives. He was scowling furiously, his eyes fixed on his cuffed hands, fisted together in his lap. "I… We… agree as long as you promise to take them off when all this is done. And… I want your word that you'll set both Knives and me free."

There were cries of blatant outrage at that, and the admiral had to put up a hand to restore order in the room.

"I will _consider_ it, if he can prove that he is no longer a threat to the Federation or the humans on this planet. I can't make that promise though."

Well, she really couldn't complain. They weren't going to kill him or lock him up—at least for a while. "Knives…?"

He glanced up, as if startled, and she raised her brows in question. He scowled again but gave a sharp nod before dropping his gaze again.

She turned back to the admiral. "Yeah. We'll do it."

x.x.x.x.x

"Well… that went… well…?" Vash glanced nervously at his brother, who had wandered across their room as soon as they entered and was now standing alone, his arms crossed, staring at the wall. Vash, Kira, and Chronica were gathered near the door, watching him in various states of concern. He hadn't spoken since the meeting, and, despite the positive outcome, his demeanor was bordering on abrasive.

"Yeah," Kira agreed, glancing at Vash. "At least _you're_ free. And we bought some time for you, Knives," she continued, turning toward the agitated plant. "Now we just have to prove that you're not a threat. That shouldn't be too hard, right…?" She trailed off, hoping to draw him into the conversation.

He looked over and sighed, obviously not convinced. "I'm more concerned about the collars," he said dully.

"I know, and I'm sorry. You just got yours off and—"

"I'm not worried about mine," he said, interrupting her. "I was expecting it. But I don't want one of those things on you."

"It might be a good thing," Vash said tentatively. "Like the admiral said, it'll give you both a break, since she won't need to be shielded anymore."

Knives let out a huff and looked away again. Kira wasn't sure why he cared so much about _her_ collar. She really didn't mind having to wear one. And if it could be used as a long-term telepathic barrier…

"It _does_ sounds like the collar might be the easiest solution to all of this," she prodded.

Knives didn't answer, but he tensed, visibly.

"You don't agree?"

How could he not understand? She knew why_ he_ didn't want his telepathy restricted—it was a part of him. But _she_ really didn't care about it one way or another. It wasn't like she could use it, even if she wanted to. She'd much rather have some independence, instead of having to be 'shielded' all the damn time.

Her anger began to swell at his continued refusal to speak. Why the hell did this bother him so much?

"Vash," Chronica said, her cool alto breaking the awkward silence that had descended. "I promised Meryl I'd call her after the meeting. Would you care to join me in updating her on our situation?"

Vash's face lit up. "I'd love to!"

"Come—let's take a walk," she said with a smirk, glancing at Knives and Kira before drawing Vash out into the hall, leaving them on their own.

"Hey," Kira said sternly, rising from the wheelchair with a small wince, and walking to where Knives stood. She grabbed his wrists, unfolded his arms, and took his hands in hers. "Talk."

He met her eyes reluctantly. "I know I should be happy. I know this is the best outcome we could have hoped for. But… I worry. About what they might do to you."

"You'll be there."

"Yes," he scoffed. "So they say. I still don't quite believe it."

"I won't cooperate unless you're with me."

"They may force you to." He grimaced. "And if they do, I won't be able to do a damn thing to stop them. And… neither will you," he said with a pointed look at her.

She frowned. What was he getting at?

"I…" He paused, his brows coming together. "You… probably have more power than anyone else on this planet, now. You know that, right?"

She stared vacantly, dumbfounded. She… what?

His jaw clenched. "The other plants don't have the abilities that we do… or… did," he added ruefully. "Vash and I have drained our power, but you still have yours. You're the last 'fully functioning' first generation plant. You may not have control over your telepathy yet, but you still have everything else."

His gaze was restless, pausing on the wall, their hands, the bed, but never stopping for long.

"You are powerful," he repeated. "If you weren't injured, you could free us both today. Right now. The blades are… intuitive, as I've shown you. And they're sharp—sharper than you can possibly imagine. Cutting through the walls of this ship would be so easy…" He exhaled a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh. "But, that would bring the soldiers down on us. And… I know you wouldn't want that. _I_ wouldn't want that. And, I'm all but useless now… and I would never askyou to do anything like that… but…"

An escape would lead to fighting. And killing. No. She definitely didn't want that. For either of them.

His eyes darted around, seeing nothing. He looked so desperate.

"If you weren't injured—if you had your mobility—at least you could use the blades to defend and escape. Unfortunately, they'll have a collar around your neck by then," he snapped, his anger returning. "I know they said it will help, but I think that's only half the truth. You're a threat to them. You are dangerous. But once they put that collar on you, you'll be entirely at their mercy. What if they've been lying—about everything? About their plans. What if they separate us? Or _use_ you like Garrow wanted to? Like they did to me. What if—"

She pressed a hand to his lips before he spiraled into more of a frenzy than he already had.

He let out a short breath and met her eyes again. "I'm sorry, I… worry. I can't help but worry," he murmured against her fingers.

"I know," she said, smiling a little. "But it's going to be okay—I promise."

"You can't promise that."

She dropped her hand. "You're right—I can't. But I _can_ tell you that worrying won't help. Right now, our options are fairly limited, and I think going along with the Federation is the best plan. And… I really do think it's going to be fine."

"You trust them?" he said, his nose wrinkling.

Kira grinned. "I wouldn't say I _trust_ them, but they haven't done anything to make me _distrust_ them. I'm… optimistically neutral? I think they've treated us fairly, so far, and I think they deserve a chance to prove themselves… kinda like you did."

He rolled his eyes at that and she laughed before moving closer, putting her arms around his waist, and resting her forehead on his chest. He responded by circling his arms around her and sighing a warm puff of air against the top of her head.

"We just have to hope for the best, I guess. If something goes wrong, we'll figure it out. Don't forget, we're not alone."

She felt him nod and then he lifted her chin and drew her into a kiss, which would have been lovely if her stomach hadn't decided that this was a perfect moment to rebel against her in a spasm of pain.

"Ah, shit!" she gasped, curling in on herself with a wince.

He gave her an apologetic look. "Come," he said, leading her toward the bed and helping her sit, her back propped against a pillow. "You alright?"

She let out a slow breath as the pain subsided. "Yup—I'm good," she ground out. She offered a weak, crooked smile. "It hurts, but it really is a lot better than it was. I still can't believe how fast it's healing."

"You're… happy about it?" he said cautiously.

She paused, thinking for a moment. "I'm still… a little conflicted… not being human anymore. But, yeah. I mean, how can I not appreciate faster healing?" She gestured him over. "Sit with me."

An adorable smile crept over his face as he settled down beside her. She tipped her head back in what she hoped was an obvious invitation to pick up where they'd left off when her stomach had interrupted them. His smile shifted into a cocky smirk and he leaned forward, capturing her lips with his and cupping her jaw with his hand. He situated himself carefully, so she didn't have to move out of her comfortable position.

When he finally broke the kiss, she let out a pleased sigh. "I can't wait until I'm strong enough to do _other_ things again."

His eyes danced. "I could always to other things _to_ you." His hand moved to her inner thigh and began inching slowly upward.

She laughed, pushing him away. "Your brother could be back any minute!"

He pouted, looking eerily like Vash. "I wonder if they'll let us stay together on 'the lead ship,'" he said, his expression darkening. "If the collar works, you won't need me to shield you at night…" He trailed off.

"They better," she muttered. She had meant 'he stays with me' literally. She wished they'd had a chance to speak with the admiral privately to hammer out more of the details. How much sway did she have? If she was uncooperative—if she threatened to walk away—would they give in to her demands?

Or would they use Knives to control her. They could push back. Very easily… She'd do just about anything to keep him safe.

Fuck. All she could do was hope for the best.

x.x.x.x.x

A trio of soldiers escorted them to the shuttle bound for Octovern early the following morning. Again, Knives was the only one put into cuffs before being led through the ship. He cursed internally. The soldiers also insisted Kira use the wheelchair, despite her mild complaints that she felt well enough to walk. Knives actually agreed with them on that front, though he wasn't stupid enough to tell _her_ that.

A small group including Chronica and the admiral was already aboard, and the craft took off almost as soon as they were seated. The journey was… uncomfortable. Mostly because of how _comfortable_ everyone acted. They were relaxed and familiar, chatting easily. Vash seemed to fit in without even trying, and Kira was friendly, although a little more reserved than normal. Their ease only made Knives feel more awkward. Separate. Isolated.

Most of the passengers ignored him. Any questions they had about him were addressed to Vash, Chronica, or Kira. Vash tried to draw him into the conversation a few times, but Knives kept his responses brief and succinct. He really wasn't in the mood to socialize anyway.

When they landed, _finally_, he released a sigh of relief. Even being incarcerated would be better than this special kind of hell. And at least he wouldn't be alone. Vash wouldn't be residing on the ship, but Kira had insisted that she and Knives share a room. The admiral had chuckled at her stubborn resolve but agreed to give them a 'comfortable place to stay.'

As they stepped off the shuttle, they were surprised to find a bouncy brunette and an ecstatic raven-haired reporter waiting for them in the hangar. Meryl rushed over, throwing her arms around Vash, who let out a pained grunt as she crushed his ribs, but grinned happily. They were soon swept up by Millie, who wrapped her arms around the pair of them before moving on to Kira, nearly lifting the girl out of her chair, and then to Knives, who scarcely contained a surprised yelp at the sudden overt display of affection. She approached Chronica last, but at a dangerously raised eyebrow, Millie slowed and extended a hand instead. Chronica smiled and took it cordially.

Meryl released Vash, her gaze overly bright, and Knives heard her murmur something about 'nitwit' and 'get yourself killed.' She wiped a hand across her eyes and turned to Kira, an expression of relief on her face. "You're okay," she said, her voice only wavering slightly. "It's so good to see you!" She bent down, embracing Kira warmly.

Kira grinned. "You too."

Meryl took a step back and looked to Knives. "And how are you?"

He lifted his hands, drawing attention to his cuffed wrists, a sardonic smile twisting his lips. Apparently, the soldier at his side didn't approve of the motion and the man put a firm hand on his shoulder.

Meryl's brows knitted together in confusion and she turned to Vash, who murmured something in her ear. She seemed to understand and gave Knives a sympathetic look.

He simply shrugged. It could be worse.

She moved to where Kira, Millie and Chronica were gathered, and joined in their surprisingly animated conversation. Vash walked over to Knives and they watched in mute amusement.

Olowe, who had been speaking with several other passengers from the ship, walked up beside them and cleared his throat loudly, drawing the women's attention. "As much as I hate to interrupt this reunion, we should probably press on. I'd like to show you the room and make sure it's acceptable. After that, our doctors are waiting to fit you with your cerebral collars," he said, glancing at Kira, and then at Knives. "If you'd please come with me," he concluded, leading them forward.

x.x.x.x.x

Once they reached the room they would be 'staying' in, though Knives suspected 'imprisoned' in was a more accurate description, the admiral typed in a code and gestured them inside. Knives stepped through the threshold and let out a soft breath of surprise. It was _much_ nicer than he was expecting. It was similar to Vash's suite on the Melca Border ship. There was a cozy living area, a small kitchen, a bedroom with two decently sized beds, and a bathroom. It was small, but for a spaceship, it was astonishingly luxurious.

Kira made an impressed noise as she entered, as did Vash and his girls. Even Chronica let out a soft hum of approval.

The admiral smiled. "We usually reserve this room for visiting diplomatic envoys. I trust you find it acceptable?"

"It's amazing!" Kira said eagerly. "Thank you." She flushed a little. "I'm not gonna lie, I was half expecting… well…"

"A cell," Vash finished for her, looking around in disbelief. "This is incredible!" He turned to Knives. "You think you'll be okay here?"

Knives stared at him blankly for a moment, his stomach flipping as the realization that Vash wouldn't be with them sunk in. As much as he wanted alone time with Kira, saying goodbye to Vash made him very, very nervous.

He answered slowly. "Yes. I think we'll be okay." He paused. "Where will you stay?"

Vash cast a sidelong glance at Meryl, his cheeks going pink. "I'll figure something out. And I promise I'll stop by every day," he said, before turning to the admiral to confirm that he would even be allowed to visit that often.

The admiral nodded and Vash turned back with a grin.

Every day. Okay… okay. Knives tried to calm his nerves.

Okay.

"And… you're leaving… now?"

Vash shrugged. "I don't have to. I can stay until the collars are done."

As tempting as it was, Knives didn't want to force him to wait around for hours while the anesthetics wore off. Besides, it was already late.

"No… No, it's fine," he said brusquely, feeling foolish. "Tomorrow."

"Okay. Tomorrow." Vash smiled warmly and pulled him into a hug, which he tentatively returned, his heart pounding in his chest. This _wouldn't_ be the last time he'd see Vash. They'd both be _fine_. He _didn't_ need to worry.

The others said goodbye, exchanging hugs and various words of encouragement before Chronica led them into the ship. Knives' fingers curled into a fist as the door slid closed behind them. A hand wrapped around his arm and Kira looked up at him worriedly. He gave her a tight smile in a weak attempt to reassure her, though he was sure it didn't reach his eyes.

"Well," said the admiral, "are you ready?"

Knives let out a heavy breath and nodded, still looking at Kira.

She smiled gently and turned to Olowe. "Lead the way."

x.x.x.x.x

A pair of painfully bright fluorescent bulbs beamed down, blinding Knives, when his eyes cracked open. He felt… numb. Mentally. Again. Dammit… He blinked a few times in a useless attempt to clear his vision before putting a hand to his throat and exhaling wearily. Metal.

"Hey, you're up." A soothing voice whispered. "How are you feeling?" He turned his head. Kira was lying in the hospital bed beside his. Right. His memories came flooding back. He'd shielded her while the anesthetic took effect. Then they had dosed him…

Her collar glinted in the harsh light. It must be working—he wasn't shielding her now, and she seemed fine. Although having her under the Federation's control unnerved him, he couldn't deny a small amount of relief that they'd been right. Her life was no longer in danger. If her mind couldn't accept the telepathy, at least they had the collar as a fallback.

She was staring at him somewhat expectantly. Right… She had asked how he was.

"I'm fine," he answered without really thinking. "And you?"

"I'm… good," she said, a soft smile curving her lips. "Great, even. There's… nothing. No voices. I almost feel normal again." She watched him for a moment and a small crease appeared between her brows. "You sure you're okay?"

"Of course," he said quickly, looking back at the glaring lights.

He _was_ fine… He was. Other than the fact that he felt completely emasculated and was trapped in the clutches of an organization that wanted him dead. His telepathic abilities hadn't been much, but they had at least given him a weapon. But now… he had nothing. All he could do was fucking _hope_ that the humans would keep their word. Being reduced to this after _finally_ regaining a little bit of power was equal parts terrifying and infuriating. He was _so tired_ of feeling… cornered.

"You want to talk about it?"

He started, her voice jerking him from his thoughts. "Talk about what?"

"Whatever's bothering you… The collar? The Federation?" She hesitated. "Me?"

He made a face. "You?"

She looked sheepish. "Maybe you don't like that I'm happy about the collar?"

He pushed himself into a seated position and reeled for a moment at a sudden wave of dizziness—a side effect of the anesthesia, no doubt. "That's not… _entirely_ accurate," he mumbled. "I am happy that you feel safe—that it alleviates your concern." He sighed. "I was thinking about _my_ collar. I understand why they insist on it, but I'd feel a lot safer if I still had my telepathy. I know this is the best option we have—I _know_ that—but…"

"You worry," she finished for him. "And only time will tell if we can trust the Federation or not."

"Exactly… so, in the meantime, I'm stuck on this… this precipice. I feel like _something's_ going to go wrong, it's _going_ to give way, I'm _going_ to fall, and all I can do is _wait_ for it to happen," he said, his voice growing louder as his emotions began spiraling out of control. "Not only that, but I have to pretend like everything is okay. I have to remain calm. And… I have to show everyone around me that I'm stable and… _friendly_… when I'm _not_! I'm _suspicious_ and _angry_ and… and… _afraid_…" He let out a heavy breath, his energy gone. "And weak. And helpless. I hate feeling so helpless. It heightens everything else."

She stared at him, unblinking, and then suddenly climbed out of bed and went to the door, knocking on it loudly. He narrowed his eyes in confusion.

It whooshed open and a soldier stood there, his gun in his hand. "Miss?" he said, casting a wary glance at Knives.

"We'd like to go back to our room. Is that… uh… Can someone take us there, or…?"

The man looked uncomfortable. "I'll have to speak with your doctor."

"Please do," she said curtly. "And thank you."

The door closed behind him and Kira walked back to her bed, looking very pleased with herself. "I think I have a solution," she said brightly, and he tipped his head to the side, inviting her to elaborate. "_You_ need a distraction."

x.x.x.x.x

Breath. Heat. Her mouth, lips, tongue, moving against him. Making him rise. Making him hard. Pushing him to the edge, then slowing down, drawing him back, then pushing him to the edge again. Tantalizing. Teasing. Until finally, she gave him what he wanted. What he needed. He bucked his hips and let out a shuddering gasp, a groan, as he overflowed and was left panting, his mind utterly and blissfully bereft of thought. It was wonderful.

She climbed forward to lay beside him, wincing as she moved, and he immediately swore. She'd insisted she felt fine and had all but forced him to accept her attentions. Now he regretted giving in. He tried to help her, but she lightly pushed him back and settled against his side.

"I'm fine," she said crossly.

He let out a skeptical huff but didn't argue. "_I_ was supposed to do that to _you_," he groused.

She laughed. "Yeah, well, you needed it more than I do." She glanced over at him. "Feel any better?"

He couldn't hold back a smile. "I do, actually."

"Good." She placed a light kiss on his shoulder before snuggling closer to him and his smile deepened.

"Thank you," he said softly. "Not for… this—although, thank you for that too—but for understanding."

She lifted her head and grinned. "Of course. I _know_ you, Knives. And you're ridiculously easy to read. And… you're not wrong. You concern is valid. I just hope the worst doesn't come to pass. In the meantime, if there's anything I can do to help you cope with the weirdness of all this, let me know."

She snuggled in again, her warmth soothing and relaxing him. He really did feel a hell of a lot better. He knew there would be difficulties ahead, but at least he didn't need to worry about _this_.


	32. Chapter 32

Kira woke and let out an annoyed groan. Vash was right—the thin metal collars were a pain to sleep in. It was… manageable, but it would definitely take some getting used to. It didn't help that she and Knives were sharing one of the two beds, and though it was a good size for a single person, it was a little small for two. Oh well. It was probably good that the Federation didn't know _precisely_ how close they were.

She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and looked over at him, curled up on his side, his jet-black hair splayed across the pillow. She grinned and leaned down, placing a kiss on his cheek. His eyelids twitched, and then cracked opened and blinked slowly. A lazy smile spread over his lips.

"Morning," he mumbled, before yawning and stretching widely.

"Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

"Surprisingly well," he said, throwing an arm over her hips and nestling closer to her. "It seems your distraction was quite effective. We'll have to make use of it going forward." He smirked and his eyes drifted closed again.

She snorted. "Glad I could help," she muttered dryly and poked his side.

He let out a low chuckle and rolled onto his back, gazing up at her. "How did _you_ sleep?"

"Fine, but these collars kinda suck," she admitted with a grimace.

He gave her a sympathetic look that swiftly shifted into something much more inwardly focused and bitter. "You get used to it."

Silence fell and she cleared her throat to disrupt it. She didn't want him getting lost in his thoughts again. "Come on. Let's find out how to get breakfast," she said, rising, heading to the door, and rapping on it loudly.

x.x.x.x.x

Kira was amazed by how accommodating the soldier standing guard outside of their room was. At her request, he immediately fetched a pair of trays, loaded with a surprisingly delicious breakfast. When they had finished eating, she decided to push her luck and asked the man if he would be willing to bring her a few things so she and Knives could cook some of their own meals. He seemed a little surprised, but agreed to help, and so Kira quickly put together a grocery list.

With their kitchen now stocked, she and Knives spent the day relaxing. She didn't even mind being confined to the suite. After all of the excitement, she was grateful for a chance to unwind. Their isolation seemed to be good for Knives, too. He was much calmer than he had been the previous evening. The lines of tension eased from his face, and his posture loosened up considerably. He was also increasingly affectionate—not that he was the only one…

She couldn't help it! After _everything_, it was just such a relief to have him here—safe—with her.

It was a relief that he was alive at all.

There was a reason the blades sprang forth during the battle. Knives had fucking thrown himself into harm's way. That fact had sort of gotten lost in all of the chaos that followed, but she remembered it now. She remembered the blind terror that engulfed her as a volley of shots blasted through the air, heading straight for him. She still couldn't believe her body reacted in time, but superhuman reflexes were another part of being a plant that she was very, _very_ grateful for.

She shuddered to think of what might have happened, and she _had_ to lace her fingers with his—to squeeze his hand—just to reassure herself that this was real. He was here. They were okay. He hadn't been taken from her—not on that day, nor on any of the days that followed. She smiled at him, and her heart fluttered at the tender way he smiled back.

Vash and Meryl stopped by that evening to check in on them. Kira almost laughed at how excited Knives was to see his brother, as if it had been weeks, and not hours since they'd parted. Vash seemed equally relieved to find them, unharmed, in their room. If he hadn't, Kira was pretty sure he would have stormed the ship.

They spent a few hours talking about everything and nothing in particular, and when Vash and Meryl left, she and Knives settled in bed together and basked; comfortable, and grateful, and happy.

All in all, it was a good day.

x.x.x.x.x

The next few days were equally uneventful. By the end of it, Knives seemed almost carefree. And then, a pair of soldiers arrived at their door and informed them that the doctors were ready for them.

Kira could practically see his anxiety mount as they were led through the ship. By the time they reached the medical wing, his jaw was rigid, and his spine was a rod of iron. To his merit, he held his tongue when Dr. Lark and Dr. Gray, the two women who'd installed the collars, greeted them warmly and asked how they were doing with the new devices. Only a withering look of contempt gave him away. Kira answered in his stead, expressing the various pros and cons of the situation.

Lark listened attentively, her green eyes fixed on Kira, while Gray scribbled down notes with impressively dexterous speed. When Kira was done talking, Lark nodded in understanding and said they would do everything they could to help her adjust to her new state so she could eventually be free of the collar. The doctor didn't mention Knives, and Kira hoped that wasn't telling.

Lark briefly outlined their plan, explaining that they'd begin by observing Kira's basic physical functions. Knives tensed even more at that, and cast a furious scowl at the doctor, but she assured him that their testing wouldn't be nearly as invasive as what he had suffered through—they would _not_ be testing Kira's regenerative capabilities. Lark also offered to send him back to the suite, since they wouldn't need his help until the later stages, but he recoiled sharply, insisting that he'd rather stay.

He watched silently for the first couple of days, but he gradually began adding more and more input on everything, really. By the end of the week, he was interpreting data right along with Lark and Gray. As promised, the first stage was recurrent daily observation of her strength, speed, agility, heartrate, and the like. It was followed by a brief testing of her mental faculties.

Next, they moved on to testing her gate-related abilities and Knives' shielding came into play. He was released first, and when he signaled that he was ready, Gray turned off the disruptors in Kira's collar, and she let out a small noise as his familiar energy prickled around her.

"_There_ you are," she said with a laugh, and he looked positively enamored, so much so that Gray actually raised a brow.

Kira hadn't realized how _contained_ she felt, but now that she was free, she finally understood why the collar bothered him so much. It wasn't that she couldn't live with it, if she had to, but for the first time, she really didn't want to. It was like breathing fresh air, when she hadn't realized she was suffocating. The world seemed to open up around her.

They spent the next week measuring the output of Kira's gate and having her manifest her energy. She was still hesitant to use it, but little by little, her confidence grew. Most of what they asked for was matter generation, and with reluctant instruction from Knives, she was able to create various materials, organic and inorganic, as the angels did.

She had just finished 'growing' a tomato plant, complete with ripe fruit, when Garrow's dream suddenly coalesced for her. This was it. _This_ was what he wanted. And though many of the things he'd done were terrible, some aspects of his plan made sense.

Maybe…

She looked up at Knives. "We _could_ terraform the planet… if there were more like me. If other people volunteered to become plants, then maybe…" She trailed of and an expression of hurt flashed across his face, as if her realization—her desire to use her energy to help humanity—was a personal betrayal.

"Your hair will darken at some point," he reminded her.

"Yeah, but when? How much could I accomplish before that happened?"

He scowled. "I couldn't say."

"We don't have much information on it," Lark said, turning to Kira. "We could do regular measurements to monitor your output level, but that doesn't really tell us how much energy you have stored—only the strength of power you can access. But the darkening is a gradual process. Once it begins, you can stop using your energy, to prevent it from progressing."

"Right…" Kira said softly, rolling the matter over in her head.

She knew it was more complicated than just finding volunteers. Yes, she survived, but there was no guarantee that others could. The serum was dangerous, and the Federation might not risk using it again. They also might not risk giving other people such a magnitude of power—the telepathy, the blades. There would need to be extensive psychological testing for anyone who volunteered.

And even then…

But… maybe…

Knives was very quiet when they returned to their room that night. Vash stopped by to eat dinner and check in on them, as he had every day, and it took him all of two seconds to pick up on his brother's caginess. Kira briefly explained their previous conversation, and Vash was absolutely thrilled with the idea, which only made Knives close up even more. After nearly an hour of Knives stonewalling him, Vash gave up and left with an apologetic glance at Kira. She offered him a tight-lipped smile.

This was going to be a _fun_ evening…

When she finally drew the argument from Knives, it exploded into something loud and vicious that left both of them tired, and angry, and hurt. They slept in separate beds for the first time since they'd arrived. By the following morning, both of their tempers had cooled, and they mumbled less-than-enthusiastic apologies. Knives grudgingly agreed that how she used her energy was her choice, and she promised to take his advice to heart. She knew he had good reasons for feeling the way he did… but this problem was so much bigger than them. If she could help, she _had_ to.

Lark and Gray must have noticed Knives' scarcely contained indignation the previous day, because they decided to shift to telepathic testing. The underlying tension faded a bit since they were moving away from matter creation, but the relief was very short lived.

Once again, Knives shielded Kira. Gray had initially suggested that they use the collar—they could simply turn it on and off as needed, but Knives had vetoed that plan. If the collar was on, Kira had no control. If he was shielding her, she could at least _try_ to preemptively prepare her mind.

He met her eyes and she nodded, letting him know she was ready. The instant he dropped the shield she collapsed, overcome by the raging sea of voices. Knives put it back up immediately, but Kira's heart was already racing. She took several deep, slow breaths, trying to steady herself before looking up at him and nodding again.

He frowned. "Are you sure?"

She offered a half-hearted shrug. "We have to try…"

And try they did, but unfortunately there was no way for Knives to _partially_ shield her. She was either protected, or she wasn't, and the entire flood of input would slam into her, smashing through what little defense she could create. It made 'adjusting' damn near impossible, not that the lack of momentum was unexpected. They knew this would be the most difficult hurdle they'd have to overcome—that it would take time—but Knives became more and more frustrated as the days passed, and Kira was quickly losing hope as well. They sank into each other's arms at night, taking comfort in each other, but they were both growing weary.

Vash began stopping by to 'help out' during the experiments instead of just visiting in the evenings, and though his presence lifted everyone's spirits, it didn't make much of a difference in Kira's progress. After several weeks of trying, and trying, and trying, the horrible conclusion couldn't be avoided any longer; her mind wasn't adjusting at all. Her reaction to the telepathy was just as swift and violent as it had always been.

The group was spread across the lab, dejectedly contemplating what to do next. Kira was on her back on the floor, exhausted from the day's efforts, and caring very little where she lay. Vash was slumped forward, his head face-down on his crossed arms. Lark and Gray were going over the data, searching for _anything_ that might give them a clue about how to proceed. And Knives' chin was resting on his palm, his other hand absently tapping on the table.

"What if…" he murmured softly, and four pairs of eyes snapped to him. "What if we leave the city… go into the desert—away from everyone."

"It would reduce the load," Vash added, lifting his head.

"If she could just… strengthen her shield… little by little, like we did," Knives said, almost to himself. "I think… I think the city is too much, all at once."

Vash frowned. "That'll take a while though. Weeks… months, even."

Knives nodded, staring vacantly, lost in thought. "If we could go out for a week or two at a time… then come back for supplies… measure our progress…"

Lark and Gray glanced nervously at each other. "I don't know if they'll let you leave," Gray said, her eyes on Knives.

He grimaced. His anxiety had mellowed significantly since they'd first arrived—he even admitted to trusting the doctors—but his relationship with the rest of the Federation was far from stable. "I know. But…" He turned to Vash, his brows raised in inquiry. "_You_ could."

"Yeah," Vash answered. "Of course, I'll go if you can't, but… we should ask Olowe first. You never know."

Knives scoffed. "You always were an optimist."

"And you always have too little faith in people," Vash retorted sharply.

Knives smiled grimly, but inclined his head. "I hope you're right."

x.x.x.x.x

He lay with his back to her that evening, scars etched across his otherwise flawless skin. She traced her fingers along a few of them, then leaned forward and placed a kiss between his shoulder blades before running her hand up the back of his neck and through his hair.

It was getting long. It was longer than Vash's now…

"You should get this cut," she murmured, raking her hand through the black strands again before throwing her arm over his waist.

He huffed and laced his fingers with hers, pulling her arm more tightly around him. "I'll let you ask, on my behalf. They respond better to you," he said in a dry tone.

She grinned. "I don't know… I think everyone likes you well enough. Lark and Gray do, at least." She nuzzled against his spine. "I do," she said softly. She kissed him again and exhaled slowly, trying to calm her racing heart. "I, uh… I love you, actually."

She felt him stiffen and let go of her hand. He turned to face her, a lopsided grin tilting his lips. "You do?"

She laughed. "Yeah. I do." She pushed him down against the pillow and leaned over him, pressing her lips to his, before settling down beside him. "I kinda have for a while. I just wasn't quite ready to say it."

Merriment danced across his features. "Say it again?" he entreated, carding a hand through her hair.

She chuckled and placed a light kiss on his shoulder. "I love you."

He let out a deep, contented sigh, his eyes closed and his lips still curved. "You love me," he murmured, before shaking his head and letting out a short laugh. He opened his eyes and his expression softened a little. "I love you too."

She knew he did, of course, but he had refrained from saying it since they came to the ship. She assumed it was because she hadn't reciprocated and he didn't want to push her, but now… Her heart flipped over at the words. She threw herself forward, putting all of her feelings into the kiss, and he met her with an equal measure of passion, and adoration, and joy.

x.x.x.x.x

The following morning, a soft knocking interrupted their breakfast, and the door slid open to reveal Olowe with a pair of soldiers behind him. Kira's jaw dropped. They hadn't seen the admiral in person since the day they arrived on the ship.

"May I have a moment?" he asked, amusement playing over his face, no doubt provoked by her stunned expression.

"Uh, yeah. Come in," she stammered, stepping back so they could enter.

Once everyone was seated—Olowe with his soldiers standing guard, Kira still gawking, and Knives staring coldly—the admiral began. "I'm sure you know why I'm here. You wish to leave, and I want you to convince me as to why I should allow it." As he finished, his gaze fell on Knives, and the blue-eyed plant let out a huff.

"There are too many people in the city," he said flatly. "I suspect this is why Kira hasn't made any progress thus far. She cannot train her mind under such a heavy burden. If we don't reduce the load, she'll never improve. By taking her into the desert, we can allow her to develop the foundation she needs to move forward."

"Yes, Dr. Lark said as much when she apprised me of the situation. What I don't understand is why _you_ need to be there," Olowe countered. "Your brother specifically asked that I let you go, but from what I gather, _he_ could just as easily take your place."

Knives' face went stony. "Yes," he said, and Kira knew he was doing everything he could not to snap at the admiral. "If my presence is your only qualm, then I'll stay behind."

"No." The word left her mouth instantly. "Knives hasn't caused any trouble since we got here. Can't you just send some soldiers with us to guard him or something?"

"I could, yes. But why should I take such a risk?"

"Because he deserves to be there!" she growled. "Because this whole thing is his idea, and I trust his judgement of the situation better than anyone else's. Because he's the one who taught me how to shield my mind in the first place, and he's the one who's been teaching me since I became a plant. He knows where I'm strong, and where I'm weak, and he'll push me, but he won't let me get hurt. He wants this plan to succeed more than anyone!"

A bark of laughter cut through the air from Olowe, who was now sporting a wry grin. "Yes, I believe you're right about that," he said, glancing shrewdly at Knives. "He's very fond of you, isn't he."

Kira felt her cheeks go pink. Her relationship with Knives wasn't exactly a secret, but they still tried to keep it under wraps as much as possible. She swallowed. "Uh… yeah. He is. And that's part of the reason you can trust him not to escape. He'd never leave me behind, and _I_ want to stay."

Olowe looked surprised. "You do?"

Kira licked her lips nervously. "I guess. I mean… if we can figure this out—if I can survive this—that means the serum works, right? And maybe it would work on other people too." She sighed, wishing she'd known they'd be having _this _conversation today. "I don't know. Maybe we really _could_ shape the planet… find a way to survive here. I want to help. And I need him to do that."

Olowe paused, his brows coming together, before offering a small nod. "Very well."

Knives blinked, and then his eyes went wide.

"Dr. Lark and Dr. Gray have both given positive recommendations on your behalf, as has Chronica," Olowe said, turning to him. "You'll be guarded, of course, but you may accompany the others in this venture. Prove to me that their trust has been well-placed."

Knives nodded stiffly, his face frozen in shocked disbelief, and Olowe rose, excusing himself with a smirk.

x.x.x.x.x

Lark and Gray took the next few days off to prepare. Vash told Meryl about the plan, and she had somehow convinced Olowe to let her and Millie tag along to document the whole thing. Vash would be there too, of course, along with a small group of four soldiers.

Knives, his hair cropped short, groused repeatedly about the size of the crew—arguing that the entire point of the trip was to _not_ be surrounded by people—but he was wisely silent as the soldiers led him and Kira to the shuttle on the morning of their departure. Everyone else was aboard when they arrived. Kira greeted Meryl and Millie excitedly. She'd seen far too little of them in the last couple of months.

The craft soon took off, and Kira chatted with the two women through the entire trip. They landed in a tiny village, if it could even be called that. It wasn't more than a couple of houses crowded around a single, empty bulb. Isolated. And clearly abandoned. Hell—judging by the state of the buildings, it had probably been abandoned long before the war began.

They disembarked and briefly stretched their limbs before carrying their equipment to the larger of the two houses. The soldiers on guard insisted Knives stay cuffed, and he merely rolled his eyes. Meryl and Millie began filming a quick intro while Lark and Gray hooked up the diodes to measure Kira's gate. Knives put up a shield around her and signaled to the doctors to turn off her collar.

"I assume you've all been trained to shield your minds?" he called out loudly, his gaze moving from person to person until they'd had all confirmed that they could. "Good. Then do so. I don't want her to be bombarded by your thoughts once the shield is dropped. Let's see how she does with no external input," he said, casting another quick glance around. "Are you ready?" he asked, facing Kira.

She exhaled sharply, preparing herself for the overwhelming roar she'd come to expect. "Do it." She felt his energy fall away, but, to her great relief, the world was silent. She let out a shaky laugh and Knives' face broke into a brilliant smile.

"You're okay? It worked?"

"Yeah, I… I think so."

Vash let out a whoop, and Lark and Gray busied themselves writing down every bit of data that they could.

Knives walked over to her, still beaming. "So? What can you hear?"

"Nothing much… It's pretty quiet. Maybe a few flickers here and there…" She looked at the various spectators, who were doing an impressive job of keeping their thoughts quiet, and then back at Knives.

"Alright. I'm going drop my personal shield so we can see how you do with a little input."

Kira signaled that she was ready and a flurry of thoughts began tickling her mind. It felt… different… than when Knives had connected with her is the past. Normally, his thoughts came to her like speech—or they were at least _precise_ in their meaning—but this was… more abstract. More… hazy.

He felt… pride for her. And love. And a ridiculously overwrought sense of self-satisfaction that the plan, _his_ plan, had worked.

There were also little flitting bits that shifted and changed too fast for her to read fully. She focused on one of the passing thoughts and was surprised when it suddenly became clear—he was worried that this wouldn't help her, long-term. She focused on another—he was slightly uncomfortable letting her run rampant through his mind.

She almost laughed at that one.

Oh, this was… this was _fascinating_! No wonder he used to peek into her head all the damn time!

She could feel him growing annoyed as she continued delving through his thoughts, when suddenly a series of explicit, and surprisingly potent memories slammed into her. Her cheeks went hot and she actually gasped.

A wave of amusement swept over from him and his eyes widened in mock innocence. "If you're done perusing through my thoughts, perhaps you could try shielding yourself?"

Oh… right. That.

She did as she had in the past, pushing his mind away, and the world went silent again. "Okay," she said, "now what?"

"Now hold it for as long as you can," he challenged, before wandering over to where Lark and Gray were still writing.

She frowned. Okay…? The shielding wasn't exactly _hard_, so…

A minute ticked by, then two. Vash joined Meryl and Millie, and they began chatting amiably. The soldiers had also relaxed a bit and were talking amongst themselves. Another minute passed, and another. Kira was getting bored. She knew what Knives was doing—maintaining control of the shield had always been difficult. If she didn't concentrate, it would fail. So she held her focus. And waited. And waited…

Nearly ten minutes had passed when her control finally slipped and Knives' thoughts came crashing through, along with everyone else's. It seemed she wasn't the only one who'd lost focus on shielding. She let out a soft noise of surprise and all eyes turned to her as she struggled against the small chorus of minds. Though it didn't take long, she was already panting, and Knives was at her side by the time she regained control. Judging by his guilty expression, he knew what had happened—that it wasn't just his mind she'd been fighting.

"I'm sorry—I thought it would be best if you dealt with that on your own. Experience is what you need the most right now," he said solemnly.

She nodded, only half hearing him. Most of her attention was diverted to maintaining the shield.

"I won't protect you while we're out here unless it's an emergency. It's up to you now—all day, every day. You can use the collar in the mornings and evenings, but once you have a better grasp of things, you shouldn't use it at all."

She nodded again.

"This will be difficult. This will take time. But I promise, you'll learn. It will become automatic."

She bobbed her head vigorously, wishing he'd stop talking so she could concentrate.

"Kira."

She looked up, her control on the verge of slipping again, and he winked, smirking. She swore viciously and turned her back on him, ignoring the soft chuckle that floated through the air.

She'd forgotten what an ass he could be.


	33. Chapter 33

The training continued through the afternoon, and, staying true to his word, Knives left Kira to her own devices. Since she had proven that she could survive the mental load, he instructed the rest of their party not to shield their minds. He also continued to intermittently pester and prod her. Unfortunately, _that_ led to a heated telepathic argument with Vash about pushing her too hard, which brought up an entire host of disagreements on how they should train her.

The short-sighted fool refused to back down, until Knives agreed, grudgingly, to _at least_ leave her in peace for the first few days.

Which was such a _stupid_ plan.

But…

He supposed he'd have to compromise somewhere.

Honestly, he couldn't understand why Vash disagreed with his method. Sure, putting so much pressure on her at the start might seem callous, but it was in her best interest. She had an enormously steep hill to climb, and if they coddled her now, it would only make the inevitable slips and falls later more painful. She needed to experience the situation as it really was.

She was strong. He was sure she could handle it.

x.x.x.x.x

They stopped when the suns reached the horizon. Meryl and Vash dug into the rations and prepared dinner while the others decided on sleeping arrangements. Knives was to share a room with his brother, and the soldiers quickly organized a rotation to ensure that he would be under guard at all times. The constant surveillance would be a little stifling, but at least he'd been allowed to come along. And they finally agreed to remove his cuffs, thanks to indignant demands from Lark and Gray. He still wasn't quite sure what he'd done to garner the doctors' good favor, but he was certainly glad to have them as allies.

Kira would be sharing quarters with Meryl and Millie.

He watched her from across the open living area, which had unofficially been designated as the 'lab.' She sat at the dinner table while the doctors removed the last of the diodes. Once they were finished, she slumped forward, her head cradled by her crossed arms, oblivious to the bustling activity that surrounded her. Knives felt a twinge of sympathy. She was clearly exhausted. And they'd barely begun.

He walked over and stood just behind her, a hand resting on her chair, while his current guard watched him like a hawk.

They had decided to remain discreet since they would be under such close observation, but now that they were actually here, it seemed like a terrible plan. It was going to be damn difficult not to take advantage of moments like this—when she wasn't covered in diodes, struggling against her telepathy.

Besides, he was pretty sure that everyone here already knew the nature of their relationship.

He cast a sidelong glance at the guard.

Fuck it.

He reached down and began rubbing the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders. She sat up with a surprised gasp and looked back at him. He offered a rueful shrug, hoping she wasn't too pissed that he was already spoiling their agreed-upon strategy.

To his relief, she simply smirked and shook her head in mocking disdain. Aside from that, she nestled down again with a happy sigh as he continued his ministrations.

Yes. This was a much better plan.

x.x.x.x.x

A handful of days crawled by as Kira doggedly developed her skills. Her recovery time showed the most improvement—it only took her a second or two to regain control now. The length of time between slipups was also increasing at a good pace. Unfortunately, it still took a good deal of focus for her to maintain her shield.

As he suspected…

That wouldn't do.

He glanced around. Vash was sitting on the floor, playing cards with three of the soldiers—the fourth was absent, resting up for the night shift. Meryl and Millie were at the table, interviewing Lark and Gray about the project. Millie had one camera on the doctors, while a second was perpetually aimed at Kira, who was sitting alone, hunched forward in a chair, her eyes clenched tightly shut.

The girls had promised not to include footage of Knives in the final cut, but also requested that he stay offscreen as much as possible.

Oh well. They'd just have to edit this part.

He needed to know the state of things.

He walked over to Kira and trailed a hand across her back. She let out a startled yelp, and then hissed as she fought to regain control. Once she was steady, she threw a reproachful scowl his way, and then slammed her eyes shut, hiding herself away again.

Yes. He thought that might be a problem.

He couldn't help but empathize. He remembered the difficulty—the struggle—when _he_ had to master all of this. He remembered the intense focus, and how the smallest disruption would completely upset his concentration.

He knew what she was going through, and there was only one way to fix it.

He looked over at Vash, whose attention had been drawn by the commotion, and raised a brow. At the unspoken enquiry, Vash let out a heavy sigh and nodded grimly. It was time to move on to the next stage of training.

And she wasn't going to like it…

x.x.x.x.x

Knives spent the rest of the afternoon nudging Kira, murmuring to her, and generally trying to draw her attention any way he could. As he became more persistent, she became increasingly annoyed, until she finally snapped her head up, glaring at him furiously.

"Stop!"

He did, for a moment, his head tipped slightly to the side, before bending down and whispering in her ear, "No." He leaned back, his lips curving into a taunting smirk that was certain to piss her off.

The goal was to provoke some kind of retort—at this point, any communication would benefit her, and she wasn't usually the type to hold her tongue—but after a moment's pause she exhaled sharply and turned away in an obvious attempt to dismiss him.

So, he playfully tugged at the fabric of her shirt.

"Dammit, Knives!" she exploded, her eyes flashing.

He quickly attempted to school his expression into something appropriately contrite, though he was fairly certain his amusement was still apparent. "I promise—I'm only trying to help."

She opened her mouth to speak, but lost control and choked on her words. He did cringe in earnest at that. Teasing her was always entertaining, but he didn't like watching her falter. When she had her shield back up, after cursing fluently, she spun to face him. "How—is this—helpful?" she growled through gritted teeth.

He frowned—he doubted his answer would improve her mood. "You won't be able to devote so much of your attention to shielding yourself once we leave this controlled environment. What will you do if someone bumps into you in the street? Or speaks to you? Or you encounter any of the other countless possible distractions? You _must_ to learn to shield reflexively. I'm only trying to encourage it."

She stared at him blankly for a moment, and then scowled. "You could ha—" She broke off with a gasp, her face twisting in a grimace. After a few moments, her tension eased, and she managed to grind the words out. "—could have said so."

"You need to develop your _instincts_," he answered simply. "It's better that you don't anticipate it. Let yourself react naturally until it becomes ingrained. The whole point is for you to shield without having to think about it."

Her face shifted into a glower and she grumbled something unintelligible, though he was fairly certain it involved more swearing.

He really did sympathize, but there wasn't any way around it. If she couldn't master this, she'd never be able to survive without the collar.

And she _would_ master it—he'd make sure of that.

x.x.x.x.x

Her training during the rest of their two-week inaugural trip was arduous, but she shouldered it without further complaint. Knives and Vash took turns working with her, doing what they could to draw her out, to hone her instincts. In the evenings, they offered advice on the techniques they'd found helpful when they were learning. Meryl and Millie filmed everything—thrilled that there was something more exciting _to_ film, and that Kira's progress was evident on the visual medium.

By the time they returned to Octovern to replenish their supplies, she could comfortably hold a conversation while maintaining her shield, and her reflexive control had improved greatly. She was brimming with excitement—clearly eager to test her new skills—as the city came into view through the windows of the shuttle. Once they landed, the doctors escorted them straight to the medical wing.

Meryl and Millie began setting up the cameras as Lark and Gray prepared Kira. The brothers sat at one of the lab tables, watching mutely. It had been decided that Vash would lead all of the sessions in Octovern so Millie could film everything. The girls had gathered plenty of encouraging footage from the desert, but their effort was meaningless if Kira couldn't survive the city.

Knives' lips twisted into a grimace at the thought.

"What's wrong? You worried?" Vash asked affably.

"I'm not worried, exactly, but I'm fairly certain that today will be a disappointment. The jump in population is too great. I already told Kira as much, but she's still expecting to see _some_ improvement."

"And you don't think she will?"

"I'd be amazed if there was anything significant. The scale of the input here will overwhelm her until she's advanced much further."

"I don't know—she's pretty damn tenacious," Vash said with a grin.

"This isn't an issue of tenacity, it's one of experience." He glowered. "I assume Meryl and Millie understand the scope of this—and how long it might take?"

Vash glanced over. "Yeah. They know. They're going to move on to other projects after today, and just come back for the sessions in Octovern. Afterall, _this_ is what the public really needs to see—that it's possible to survive the serum—that, with some training, people can control these abilities and live comfortable lives."

Knives brooded sullenly. He still didn't like this plan. He didn't want Kira's energy to be sapped. And he was very curious about what would happen to her—and any other new plants—once the Federation was done with them.

"Have you heard anything about what rules Olowe will put into place for the volunteers, and how he will enforce them?" he asked. It seemed incredibly naïve and dangerous to hand over such a vast amount of power to a group of strangers and expect them _not_ to abuse it.

"Not really. I think they'll just be really particular about who they choose. I mean, if they're all like Kira…" Vash trailed off with a shrug.

Knives knew what he meant. An army of plants like her could handle any outlier who might rise up and try to cause trouble.

… As long as _she_ wasn't part of that army.

Did the admiral have a backup plan? "I hope the new plants won't have to live in collars indefinitely."

From across the room, Meryl gestured for Vash to come over. The aqua-eyed plant stood and gave his brother a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "Relax—it's going to be fine. Olowe is a good guy. Besides, he _needs_ this to work. If it doesn't, he'll have to find a way to evacuate the planet—and he sure as hell doesn't have enough ships for that. It's in his best interest to find a solution that makes everyone happy. After all, no one's going to volunteer if they'll be treated like criminals for the rest of their lives." He gave Knives a final reassuring smile before sauntering over to the others.

Knives scowled, absently drumming his fingers on the table as he continued his useless contemplation. He wished he had something to do—something to distract him—but his only task during these assessments was to stay out of sight. Lark and Gray hadn't even turned his collar off. He was nothing more than a spectator.

"Here we go," Vash said cheerfully, signaling to the doctors and the camera that they were ready.

Kira grinned in response; her face full of anticipation. She took a few moments to prepare and then gave Vash a nod to begin. A moment later, she stiffened and let out a grunt, her eyes clenched shut. Several very long, very weighty seconds passed before her defenses failed and she cried out in distress. Knives' heart pounded as he suppressed the urge to go to her, forcing himself to wait patiently while Vash took care of it.

She quieted, her breathing returning to its normal rate. After a final, long exhale her frustration suddenly surged. "Dammit!" she barked, pummeling her fist into the arm of the chair. She rubbed a hand savagely over her face and let out an irritated huff, straightening up, her eyes shining with furious determination.

"Okay," she said, looking over to Vash, her jaw set. "Again."

x.x.x.x.x

Kira and Knives returned to their suite some time later with Vash and the girls in tow. Kira excused herself as soon as she was through the door, to the surprise of no one. She had pushed on far longer than she should have—honestly, Knives was amazed that she was still standing.

He cast a worried glance after her as she disappeared into their bedroom, the door sliding closed behind her. Well… there wasn't much he could do to help. She needed to rest.

He let out a sigh and joined the others. The two women were on the couch, their faces drawn, and Vash was sprawled tiredly in a chair. Knives took the chair across from his brother and leaned forward, his foot tapping restlessly as he tried to think of something to say. Thankfully, Meryl beat him to it.

"You did warn us it would take time," she said in a low voice.

"How long do you think it'll be before she can shield herself like you two?" Millie added, her expression uncharacteristically bleak.

Vash shook his head. "Hard to say. The world was so different back when we were learning this stuff. The settlements we used to encounter were a lot smaller than the population here in Octovern."

"I think less than three months would be a miracle," Knives said stiffly, "though it could be a lot more."

"I hope it's not _too_ long," Meryl groused. "I was planning on breaking the story as soon as we can put our final cut together, but I want to keep the momentum going until she succeeds."

Knives couldn't help but smile. "You're certain that she will?"

_He_ believed that she would, and he knew _Vash_ did, but it was nice to hear that today's assessment hadn't shaken Meryl's confidence.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm certain that _you_ won't stop until she does. In the meantime, we'll try to rally support and build the excitement. If we're going to ask people to volunteer for this, that's when we'll have the best chance of success—when the enthusiasm is at its peak."

Knives frowned. He assumed choosing suitable volunteers would be the most difficult aspect of the plan. It had never occurred to him that _lack of interest_ might be a problem. "You think we'll need to sway them?"

"Not _all_ of them," she said cryptically, her face flushing, eyes fixed on the floor. "If we explain the situation and show that we have a successful plan, _some_ people will want to help—just for the sake of humanity's survival. I'm going to up the coverage of the overburdened angels, in the meantime. That should inspire more people. But it's… it's asking a lot." She lifted her gaze. "We're asking people to outlive their friends. Their families. Not many will be prepared to do that."

"No… No, I suppose they won't," Knives murmured, a little embarrassed that he hadn't even considered such a glaring flaw in the plan. Honestly, he thought the long life would draw people in, but having to watch the people they loved age and die—who would want that?

An uncomfortable silence filled the air as the seconds stretched from one to the next. Meryl looked over to Millie, eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. The large woman nodded, and Meryl turned to Vash. "I think we're actually going to head out," she said softly.

"Already?" he said with a slight pout.

She gave him an amused smile. "We really should go through the footage from this afternoon before we call it a day."

He made a noise of reluctant acceptance and the two women rose to their feet. Millie offered a couple of quick goodbyes and headed to the door. Meryl inclined her head to Knives, and then turned to Vash, bending down, giving him a kiss, and murmuring a 'see you tonight,' before turning to follow her friend.

Vash stared after the raven-haired reporter, his eyes refusing to leave her until the door slid shut, cutting her off from his view.

Knives' brow arched. "Still going well, I take it?"

Vash went pink. "Yeah… really well. Really _really_ well, actually. I think… she might—assuming everything goes how we're planning—then… maybe…" He trailed off, looking hopelessly besotted.

"She will volunteer?" Knives finished for him.

"I think so. She's still kind of… debating. Weighing the pros and cons."

Hence, her comments…

"She'd lose so many people," Vash continued, "—her dad, and Millie—"

"Millie _won't _volunteer?" Knives exclaimed, surprised by how surprised he was. The big girl seemed so… altruistic. Noble. Kind. She was exactly the kind of person they were looking for. He figured she'd be a shoo-in—especially if her best friend were at her side.

"She has a lot of family she doesn't want to leave behind."

Ah. Right. He remembered hearing about the family. Shit. If someone as selfless as her wouldn't do it… It really was going to be more difficult to persuade people than he thought.

"Honestly, if _I_ wasn't here, I don't think Meryl would volunteer either. And that's… well… It's daunting. For both of us. Sort of a huge commitment, you know? But I think she wants to. And I want her to…" Vash's expression went love-struck again.

Knives nodded, a smile curving his lips, as a companionable silence fell around them. Meryl becoming a plant was a prospect he wholeheartedly supported. He had grown to like the small woman, in spite of her tendency toward snappishness.

She made Vash happy.

And Vash deserved a happiness that would last. He'd lost so many people over the years. Had so many people stolen from him.

Knives' smile fell away as his mind drifted back to all of the torment he'd put his brother through. All the people he'd taken, starting with Rem…

He'd apologized for some of it. He and Vash had discussed a number of things, including Rem and the Big Fall, during a handful of quiet nights they'd had since he was rescued from Garrow's clutches.

Rem… For so long, he had blamed her for what had happened to Tessla, but she didn't deserve it. In truth, there wasn't much she could have done to stop the rest of her crew. And she had tried to rectify the situation. They were lucky she'd been the one to find them.

God, he wished he had realized that sooner. Wished he could take back so much of his past.

He had admitted all of this to Vash—had expressed his sincere regret—and Vash had graciously accepted his apology. He'd even offered his forgiveness, much to Knives' dismay. It had been a relief, coming to terms with his past sins in some small way.

But there was so many more that remained unaddressed, even now. He'd hurt so many people. Killed so many…

Knives' stomach churned. One face in particular stood out—the person, aside from Rem, whose death had caused his brother the greatest pain. A death he had yet to apologize for.

"Vash…" He paused; his tongue suddenly unwieldy.

His brother gave him a confused look, waiting for him to continue.

"I, um…" Knives clenched his hand and forced the words out. "I want to apologize. For what happened to… to Chap—er—to Wolfwood."

Vash's posture went rigid.

Okay, maybe he should have led into that a little more delicately…

In all the months Knives had spent alongside his brother and the girls, the priest's name had only come up only a few times. At first, everyone veered away from the subject because of Livio—though the man claimed to enjoy hearing stories about his childhood friend, it was obvious that it also stirred his guilt. But even after they'd parted ways from him, talking about the priest remained something of a taboo. Everyone seemed to agree the best way to deal with such a touchy issue was to avoid it.

And Knives had been more than happy to let this particular sleeping dog lie.

Wolfwood was a dangerous subject, for many reasons, not least of which being that Knives had hated the man, more deeply than he hated most humans. Of course, that hatred was gone now, swallowed up by his immense guilt, but a small part of him would always be bitter about the friendship that had developed between the priest and his brother.

Which was absolutely ridiculous—he knew he shouldn't feel that way! He was afraid of the fight that might erupt if he ever voiced something so selfish. Or _anything_ regarding the priest.

He was already starting to regret bringing him up now.

But…

Wolfwood's death was one of the more personal offenses Knives had committed against Vash.

He needed to take responsibility.

Vash was still motionless, staring blankly at a random spot on the floor, his chin balanced on his tightly clenched hands, elbows resting on knees. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but then let out a weary sigh. "You didn't kill him. It… it wasn't your fault," he finally murmured.

They both knew that wasn't true. For a moment, Knives considered simply accepting the deflection, but… no.

"I may not have been directlyinvolved, but my hands were pulling the strings."

Vash fell silent again.

"I know you were friends. It must have been very difficult to lose him," Knives said. "And I'm truly sorry."

His words hung in the air for an increasingly uncomfortable amount of time. He was about to apologize for bringing the subject up when Vash finally spoke. "I suppose I should say the same thing," he said quietly, his voice dull.

Knives frowned, not comprehending.

"Legato," Vash supplied, his brows raising.

Oh… right.

"Legato," Knives repeated slowly, the man's name feeling foreign on his lips. "You needn't apologize for that."

Legato… He turned the name over in his head.

Elendira…

The Gung-Ho Guns.

… Conrad.

It seemed like a lifetime ago.

Vash was watching him, his expression guarded.

"What?" Knives asked cautiously.

He fidgeted and shook his head, looking away. "Just thinking…"

"About?"

"I don't know. I mean… don't you feel…?" He trailed off, his brows furrowing together. "Do you ever… miss them?"

"I didn't know them well enough to miss them."

Vash gaped. "But they were so devoted to you—"

"They were afraid of me," Knives snapped. He paused for a moment, forcing his defensive temper to cool, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer. "Legato was devoted. But the others… They had other motivations. When I was gathering them, I learned what I had to in order to control them—to keep them loyal. Sometimes through fear. Sometimes manipulation. Beyond that, I didn't give them much thought."

"But you _must_ have had _some_ kind of… of _something_ with them!"

"Why?" He fairly spat the word. "Because _you_ would have, had you been in my position? Because they would have become your… what? _Friends_? _Comrades_? You're forgetting who they were—a team of killers! And who I… who I… was." His chest suddenly felt hollow. "Their usefulness was the only thing I cared about."

"Okay. But what about now? Do you still feel that way?"

Knives flinched, and Vash must have seen it because he went on before Knives had a chance to answer.

"Look—I'm not saying you _have_ to feel any way about them. I'm just… curious. I wonder about it. That's all. I'm sorry for bringing it up."

Knives had to swallow a cynical laugh. _He_ was the one who'd started this damned conversation, though it had definitely gotten away from him. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before continuing. "I… suppose… there is a part of me that wishes I had known them better. Well, some of them. I do… regret… certain things. Of course. But, it's hard to imagine acting differently—at least back then. A unique set of circumstances brought me to them, and them to me. I don't think they would have followed me, had I been as I am now." He glanced away. "I kept myself apart from them. Emphasized my superiority. It was… necessary, to assert my dominance. To keep them in line."

Vash frowned, a perplexed look on his face. "… Do you ever feel bad for using them like that?"

"I try not to think about it," he said, feeling very, _very_ out of his depth. "It was—it was complicated! Besides, it's not like they were innocent lambs or something!"

Vash's gaze hardened instantly. "What—so they deserved their fates?"

"Maybe? I don't know!"

"And Legato deserved to die?" Vash asked slowly. "Is that why I shouldn't feel sorry?"

"… No. Though I don't think there was any other fate for him, in the end. But, at first… No."

Life had been cruel to him. And yet, somehow, he managed to claw his way out of his piteous existence into something… better? Was his existence as a Gung-Ho Gun better? Or was it just another kind of hell?

Knives' treatment of Legato was possibly the worst thing he'd done—his greatest evil. Yes, the effects of Big Fall and the war had been much greater—the damage more wide-reaching—but Legato…

He was the purest example of the malicious hatred—the callousness—the animosity that Knives had fostered.

Knives had created him—shaped him. Granted, he'd shaped Elendira as well, but it was different with Legato. The boy had been so vulnerable, and grateful—and so very ruined—when Knives found him. It had been easy to twist his gratitude into absolute and total reverence. He _loved_ Knives—_really_ loved him. He was possibly the only human to do so besides Rem. Before Kira. And Knives hadn't shown him even the smallest bit of compassion.

Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd been cruel and demeaning, at best. Brutally violent, at worst.

What he'd done was despicable. _He_ was despicable…

And yet Legato had loved him, still.

What if someone else had saved him? Someone kind? And good? Like Vash… What kind of person would Legato have become?

Another wave of disgust swept over Knives at how _truly_ _evil_ he'd been, to turn that wretched, desperate boy into such a monster.

Knives swallowed. "He didn't deserve any of it. I made him what he was. His actions and his death were my fault more than anyone's."

"… And Wolfwood? Did he deserve to die?" Vash's voice was leaden.

Knives mutely shook his head.

He let out a slow breath. "I know I probably shouldn't, but I have to ask—why did you go after him? Why did you send Livio? I mean, we were gone. It was already too late—the damage was done, so… why?"

"He betrayed me," Knives murmured, wanting to lie. But Vash deserved the truth. "And I… knew you two were close," he continued, shifting nervously. "I was… I was jealous. And angry. That you chose him—even though _he_ was a killer too—you trusted him, but not me."

"You really are something else, you know that?" Vash said, his voice dangerously soft, his eyes glinting.

Shit.

"I'm sorry. I know it was wrong. And I don't—I'm not—" He shook his head. Nothing he could say would ever be enough to make up for the things he'd done. The person he'd been. "Please—I only wanted to apologize. I didn't—"

"Knives, stop. Just—just stop. I know. I know... you didn't mean it like…" He trailed off and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "And I know you're _you_. I should have expected…" He exhaled sharply. "Maybe that's why I've been avoiding this, but… we shouldn't keep ignoring things that we don't want to deal with—not after Tessla… so… thanks, I guess," he finished tersely.

He let out another weary breath and pushed himself to his feet, heading towards the door. Knives' heart sank.

What the hell had he done?

"Vash…?"

He paused. "Knives, I really don't feel like talking anymore."

He knocked on the door and the guard on the other side opened it for him. He took half a step through it before turning back.

"Look. It's fine. Okay? I just… need a little space right now."

"I… Yes. Okay."

"Okay. I'll see you later. Just… just get some sleep."

The door slid closed behind him, and Knives thought he might be sick.

x.x.x.x.x

He wasn't sure how long he sat, staring at nothing. It wasn't until the twisting knot of pain in his chest had eased to a dull ache that he finally retreated to the bedroom. The sound of Kira's steady breathing prompted him to go to the second bed so he wouldn't wake her. Unfortunately, his plan was derailed when he sat down and the mattress creaked in complaint.

She let out a quiet groan and turned to face him. "Knives…?" she murmured into the darkness.

"Yes. It's me. Go back to sleep."

She made a small noise of protest. "Where are you? Come here."

He let out a slow breath, his mind still mired, but made his way to her bed, sitting on the edge. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

He felt her hand on his arm, tugging him down to lay beside her. "S'okay… I'd rather sleep with you next to me," she murmured, nuzzling against his shoulder.

He turned on his side and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest, burying his nose in her hair, and breathing deeply.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

"… I just had a difficult conversation with Vash…"

She let out a sympathetic hum. "Want to talk about it?"

He choked on a caustic, borderline-hysterical laugh. "No. I don't." And suddenly his pulse was racing, his breath coming too fast. "There are so many things I _never_ want to talk about with you—things I neverwant you to know," he growled, his grip on her tightening. "The things I've done—you'd hate me if you knew. If you _really_ knew. And I can't—I won't—I can't lose you too!"

"Shh—Knives, it's okay." He felt her hand on his side, moving up and down soothingly. "Calm down. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

"But I should," he hissed, his body fairly trembling with coiled tension. "You deserve to know all of it. What a vicious— How evil— All the—all the things that I—"

"Stop," she ordered, the word sharp and commanding. She leaned back, her hand cupping his face. He could just make her out in the dim light. "Listen. First of all, I'm not stupid. I know who you were. And, more importantly, I know who you _are_. You are not who you used to be. Okay? _You_ are _more_ than that person." Her thumb began moving lightly over his cheekbone. "Secondly, I'm not…" She sighed. "I _do_ know some things," she said softly. "Not everything, but more than you probably realize."

"You…? How?"

Her hand moved to rest on his side again. "I was trapped on that air ship with Vash for a long time. We talked. At first, I just wanted him to fill in some of the blanks you left in your stories, but… he gave me a lot more of your history too. Including the darker parts… You're not going to scare me away."

"Vash…" His face twisted. "I was only trying to apologize. I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut."

"… Do you want to at least give me a general idea of what happened?"

He exhaled a shaking breath and the words came tumbling out. At first it was only the bare minimum, but the longer he talked, the more details he added until he'd painted her a pretty damn clear picture of what he and Vash had discussed—including his self-incriminating inner monologue.

"What if this was it," he finished. "What if this was the last straw?"

"Vash loves you. He will always love you. But he's allowed to be mad at you. You have to do what he asks—give him the space he needs. He'll forgive you when he's ready."

"I don't deserve forgiveness."

"Then figure out a way to deserve it. Earn it."

"How?"

"Help people."

"But _how_? How am I supposed to help people when I can't even go near them?"

"You're helping me. And if this works, it will make life better for everyone on this planet."

He scoffed.

"Hey—it's a start! Just… do what you can—wherever you can. Keep trying."

"… Keep trying."

"Yes—keep trying. I mean—that's life. You try to be the best person you can. And if you fuck up, you just have to keep going, and try that much harder—be better next time—_learn_ from your mistakes! So… keep trying! Don't give up!"

He gave her a halting nod and she returned it resolutely, her expression determined. "Okay… Okay. You're right."

She smiled.

"I… I really love you, you know." He grimaced. "Maybe you don't want to hear that after… after all this, but… I do."

"Of course I want to hear it—it's just more proof of how far you've come. And I—" She let out a wide yawn. "—love you too."

"Shit—you need to rest. I'm keeping you up. I'll—" He moved to stand but she grabbed his arm.

"For fuck's sake," she said, a glimmer of laughter in her voice. She tugged him to lay beside her again and pulled his arm around her, snuggling into his chest.

He let out a heavy sigh and ran his fingers gently through her hair before curling his arm more securely around her.

… Keep trying. Don't give up.

Yes… Yes, she was right. He owed it to the people he'd hurt—to the people he'd killed. He owed it to the people who'd given him a second chance—who trusted him—who had faith in him. Millie. Meryl. Kira.

Vash…

He owed them all the effort he could give. He would do whatever he could to make up for his past.


	34. Chapter 34

Knives spent the next two days wavering between resolute acceptance and crippling anxiety. He would keep trying—he _would_ find a way to make up for his past, no matter how long it took—but the more he thought about it, the more impossible it seemed.

And his relationship with Vash hung in the balance…

Kira comforted him as well as she could, but desperation clung to him with an almost impressive tenacity, refusing to be put to rest.

He wished he could apologize to Vash again. He wished he could explain, not that anything he could say would fix things. He wished he could take back the whole damn conversation.

He wished he could take back everything.

But it was too late. It was done.

x.x.x.x.x

Dread weighed heavy like a stone in the pit of his stomach as he and Kira were escorted to the hangar the following morning. He wasn't sure what scared him more—the thought of seeing Vash again, or the thought of _not_ seeing Vash.

Maybe it was still too soon. Maybe he wouldn't show up.

… Maybe he'd never show up again.

Something brushed against Knives' arm, startling him out of his reverie. Kira looked up at him worriedly, her hand squeezing his for a brief moment before falling to her side.

He offered a feeble smile, feeling like an unstable idiot, and tried to pull it together.

As they came upon the hanger, a small wave of relief washed over him. Vash was standing inside the door. He _had_ come. That must mean something, right? Unfortunately, the tenuous relief was soon waylaid by confusion as he noticed several additional soldiers loading supplies onto the shuttle. What was this…?

Vash straightened up and made his way over when he noticed their approach. "Hope you don't mind some extra company," he said brightly with a vague gesture at the soldiers.

The glimmer of hope inside of Knives died almost as soon as it was born. Vash _sounded_ cheerful, but his smile was as insincere as ever. Additionally, he seemed to be doing everything in his power to avoid looking at Knives.

"Why so many?" Kira asked, her head tipped to the side.

"I thought it'd be a good idea to invite a few extra bodies since Meryl and Millie aren't coming," Vash explained. "Better to increase the mental load than to lighten it. I hope you don't mind."

She shrugged. "The more the merrier, I guess."

"Sleeping arrangements will be a little tight. Do you mind staying with Lark and Gray so some of the soldiers can take your room?"

"That's fine with me." An uncomfortable beat of silence passed, and her lips tightened, almost imperceptibly. "And… you and Knives are still rooming together?"

Vash's false smile flickered. "Yeah. We are." He shifted the bag on his shoulder and turned, taking a leading step toward the shuttle. "So, uh, how are you feeling? You ready to start training again?" he asked, his tone once again cloyingly cheery, his questions plainly aimed at Kira.

She hesitated, casting an uncertain glance at Knives, before falling into stride a half-step behind Vash and continuing the trivial exchange of pleasantries.

Knives understood—she was caught in the middle. And it wasn't her place to bridge the gap between them. Besides, his brother had made it clear he wasn't ready for any kind of reconciliation.

He followed silently, the painful knot once again forming in his chest. Kira cast another questioning glance over her shoulder, obviously still not sure of what to do. He gave her a self-deprecating smirk, hoping to dispel her concern. This was his mess and there was nothing she could do.

If Vash needed more time, then Knives would be patient.

He'd be as inconspicuous as possible… while they trained Kira together and shared a goddamn room.

Fantastic.

They boarded, and Knives was grateful when Kira took a seat in the back, far from his brother, who sat in the front row. Knives took the seat beside her, and she offered a sympathetic look, lacing her fingers with his. He relaxed a little—at least she was with him. He wasn't alone.

x.x.x.x.x

She fell asleep shortly after they took off, and the weight of her head on his shoulder was oddly reassuring, but the ride into the desert was still far from peaceful. The soldiers nearly filled the small shuttle and wouldn't stop jabbering loudly to one another. Knives glanced surreptitiously from face to face. At least they were all familiar—even the newer ones. He suspected the same squad had been assigned to guard them since they'd first arrived. Olowe did want to keep his existence a secret, after all. Unfortunately, familiarity didn't mean much when he hadn't spoken more than a sentence or two to the lot of them.

He mostly ignored their chatter, even when they drew Vash into their conversation, but, after dragging a few of the more well-known stories out of the legendary gunman, one of the newcomers—a rookie, from the looks of it; barely more than a child—had the gall to ask about the final battle.

"There's not much to tell," Vash said offhandedly. He was still smiling, but Knives noted a hollowness to his voice.

Apparently, it wasn't enough of an answer. "C'mon," the boy goaded, "I mean, we know you connected with the angels and took down the ark, and then Chronica came in and you guys blasted her and escaped, but there's gotta be more to it than that!"

Knives' gut twisted at the boy's succinct retelling. Yes, there was more to it! He missed the part where Knives skewered Vash, nearly killing him, not to mention the earlier bit where Vash had been forced to take a life. Even without knowing those excruciating details, any idiot could guess it was too sensitive a subject to bring up, _now_, in front of everyone. Did the kid have no sense?

The boy cocked his head. "I mean, you must have said _something_ to make your brother switch sides."

Knives' brows came together in confusion. Wait—what?

Even Vash looked stunned by that, but he quickly shook it off and gave the boy a weak shrug before turning to gaze to the rolling dunes, offering no further explanation.

The boy opened his mouth to speak again, but Knives cut him off before he had a chance. "Enough. He doesn't wish to discuss it."

The boy frowned and glanced over his shoulder at Knives. "Why don't _you_ tell it, then?"

All eyes shifted, and Knives felt his cheeks go hot. He glared as hard as he could, but the boy stared back, seemingly undeterred. Thankfully, one of the more-seasoned soldiers knocked the rookie upside the head and told him to drop it, drawing throaty chuckles from a few of the others.

After that, they went back to their jabbering, though the rookie cast a long, inquisitive glance Knives' way, before rejoining the conversation.

How… strange.

x.x.x.x.x

He was still pondering the exchange when they landed some time later, but the chaos of disembarking quickly drove it from his mind. The squad of soldiers set to work unloading the shuttle, while the rest of them took their bags to their rooms. The main living area of their 'base-of-operations' soon bustled with activity. The soldiers prattled and laughed amongst themselves as they put the supplies away, and Vash was once again drawn into their comradery. Meanwhile, the doctors busied themselves prepping Kira. When they were done, Lark turned to Knives, deactivating his collar. Kira looked up at him expectantly, albeit nervously.

"You're ready?" he asked.

"Yeah. I think so," she answered, with a glance at the soldiers.

"Shall I ask them to be quiet?"

"No. Having to ignore them is good practice, right?"

He couldn't help but smile. "Indeed," he said, raising his shield around her, and signaling to Lark they were ready to begin.

He could feel flickers of fear as Kira erected her own shield, under his protection. The assessment in Octovern had obviously shaken her.

"You'll be fine,"he soothed.

"Okay…" She exhaled and gave him quick nod. "Okay. I'm ready."

He dropped his barrier and, unsurprisingly, her shield held. An expression of pure relief crossed her features and he was glad her confidence had been bolstered.

"Would you like to try your hand at telepathic communication?" he asked.

Her eyes went wide. "Do you think I'm ready?"

"Of course."

She gave him a disbelieving grimace and he chuckled.

"It's not that bad—I promise. You must learn to selectively allow input through your shield," he intoned. "I'll reach out to you—you should be able to feel it—then, all you need to do is let me through."

She wrinkled her nose. "And how do I do that?"

"Think of it like trying to have a conversation in a crowded room. You simply focus your attention on the person you want to hear while ignoring the others."

"That easy, huh?" she said flatly before heaving an aggravated sigh. "Alright. Go ahead."

He nodded, and concentrated, gently brushing against her mind. She hissed as her control slipped, but she regained it quickly, the walls of her shield repelling him away.

"Give me a second," she ground out. "I just… I need to…"

She went silent, her eyes closed, and Knives waited while she prepared. He cast a sidelong glance at the others and found they were now watching the lesson intently, including Vash. Their eyes met, and Knives' stomach flipped. For a moment, he thought Vash would protest the new training, but he simply looked away.

"Okay," Kira muttered, more to herself than to Knives. "Okay. Again."

He shrugged off the distraction and brushed against Kira's mind a second time. She let out a slow, focused breath, her eyes squinching even tighter. He felt her mental barrier waver, and then open, allowing him through.

He smiled. _See? That wasn't so bad._

She exhaled sharply and shook her head violently back and forth, humming in distress. He could feel her panic rise as her control faltered, and he remained quiet while she shored up her defenses. After a long minute, her panic began to subside. Lines smoothed from her face and she opened her eyes to look at him.

He raised a brow. _Better?_

She winced.

_I'm going to keep talking. If it becomes too much, push me away._

He could see her trembling as she bobbed her head up and down.

_When you feel ready, try to speak to me, as you used to._

He paused, giving her time to relax again.

_I remember when Vash and I learned all of this…_

The recollection was bittersweet.

_We were lucky there were two of us so one could always focus on shielding when we needed to enter the human settlements. It took longer than I care to admit for us to fully master it. You really are doing well._

She let out another long, slow breath.

… _Thanks_.

He grinned. It was only a single word, but she had spoken!

She gave him a shaky smile in return. He could feel her nerves, her fatigue.

He'd have to teach her to control the amount of information she let through while they were linked. From his limited experience, other plants tended to keep their emotions closely guarded when communicating like this. But there'd be time for that later.

_Good. Now, let's try it again._

x.x.x.x.x

It wasn't long before Kira could comfortably send _and_ receive telepathic information. As the days drifted past, her responses grew from a word or two, into short sentences, and finally, into full conversations.

Vash took part in her lessons as he had before, though he no longer joined the logistical and theoretical conversations each evening. Instead, he usually retreated to the bedroom to talk with Meryl on the sat-phone.

Knives sympathized. It must be difficult, being parted from her on top of being trapped in such an uncomfortable situation. Kira was trying to be there for him—she judiciously remained a neutral third party, and Vash _did_ seem more cheerful on the days he worked with her—but he clearly missed the woman he loved.

Since he couldn't do anything to help, Knives simply gave Vash as much space as possible, and waited for his brother to approach him.

But he didn't.

Vash hadn't spoken to him.

Not once.

He did his best to take it in stride—he wouldn't let his problem disrupt the training—but Vash's ongoing silence weighed more heavily with each passing day.

Surprisingly enough, the soldiers were an effective distraction. When Vash took the lead in Kira's lessons, leaving Knives with little to do, he spent a good deal of time _discreetly_ observing the squad and trying to discern what the hell they thought of him. He had assumed they considered him an enemy, but the boy's words on the shuttle told a different story.

They weren't afraid of him—not that they should be. Even if he wanted to hurt them, he was no stronger than they were while he wore the collar.

The occassional sidelong glances they aimed at him hinted at curiosity, more than anything else. They seemed to be studying him as much as he was studying them.

But. They were still wary enough to keep their distance—it wasn't like they were trying to include him in their revelry. Hm…

He was half-tempted to approach _them_, just to see what they'd do.

The boy had said he 'switched sides.' Was it possible they considered him a—what? An ally?

… Or at least, not a threat…?

The puzzling questions were enough to occupy much of his time. And the remainder of it was devoted to going over data with Lark and Gray, which was how he discovered a slight complication in his strategy of avoiding Vash.

Kira's energy readings, which had been extremely erratic when she first began training, were growing steadier by the day—and not just steadier, but stronger. Their plan was working. Measurably. Her control had improved to the point that she needed more of a challenge, and Knives had a pretty good idea of what the next step should be.

Unfortunately, it would require his brother's cooperation, and Knives wouldn't volunteer him without prior consent. He stared down at the charts and sighed. Though it would probably be uncomfortable for both of them, a conversation was in order.

x.x.x.x.x

The wind howled, battering their shelter with millions of grains of sand. A slow-moving storm had rolled in around sunset and was taking its time dying out. Vash was already curled up under his blankets while Knives stared out into the pitch-black desert, his heart drumming rapidly in his chest.

It was time.

"We need to talk," he said quietly.

For a moment, he thought Vash hadn't heard him, but he finally heaved a sigh and sat up, lifting his gaze in an obvious signal to continue.

"It's about Kira. I think it's time she started shielding herself at night."

Vash's brows drew together. "Have you talked to her about this?"

"I wanted to speak to you first—go over the details and make sure you're in agreement. She'll need someone to watch over her, to help her through it. And since they'd never leave my collar off at night, it'll have to be you." He paused, but when Vash didn't speak, he went on. "She can take my bed—stay in here with you, until she's comfortable on her own. I'll stay with the soldiers."

"You can't," he muttered.

Knives frowned. "I'm fine with sleeping on the floor—I really don't care, at this point—"

"That's not the problem," Vash snapped, rubbing his eyes, before dropping his hand wearily. "I wasn't planning on coming along this time, you know. I didn't…" He shook his head. "I figured you could handle Kira's training on your own—for a little while, at least. And I thought some time apart would help… settle things. But. Olowe said you can't come unless you're 'properly guarded,'" he finished woodenly.

Oh.

"…You're here, so I can be here."

Vash made an unenthusiastic sound of agreement.

"And part of this agreement is that we must share a room?"

"I have to keep a 'close eye on you,'" he clarified. "Unless you want to sleep in handcuffs."

Knives felt a stab of guilt. As if things weren't bad enough already.

"I've always been a burden on you, haven't I," he murmured softly. The slight crease that formed between Vash's brows was all the answer he needed. "I want to make up for it. Tell me, what can I do to fix this?"

For a moment, Vash seemed to consider the question, but then his expression darkened. He shook his head and looked away.

And with that, the taut, strained, overburdened thread of his self-control snapped.

"Please," he begged, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. "Vash… please. I know it's too late. I'll never be able to make up for my past—not entirely. But… I want to try. I'm _going_ to try. I…" He gulped a breath. "I'll never hurt anyone again. And… I'll help people! I'm going to—if I can. If… if there's a way. Maybe, I could train the volunteers after Kira? Or help rebuild the cities? Or…." he faltered, feeling like an idiot for even bringing up his ill-conceived plan. "I… I don't know what to do. Please. Tell me what to do."

The words sounded pitiful, even in his own ears.

But, maybe…

If anyone could understand, it was Vash.

His heart pounded against his chest, again, and again, and again, and again, as he clung desperately to his last shred of hope.

Please… please…

The silence stretched on, and he swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry.

A withering disappointment crept over him, stealing the oxygen from his lungs and turning his limbs to lead.

And finally, all he could do was give a shaky nod of acceptance, and turn away in defeat.

"… Wait."

Knives' breath caught at the sound of his brother's voice, and he slowly, hesitantly faced him.

Vash took a deep breath, and then slowly let it out, his gaze fixed on his hands. "You're already doing it—fixing things. Or… trying to, I guess," he added, half-heartedly. "I know you are. I know that. But… it just…" His eyes closed tightly, his features suddenly contorting into something bitter, and furious, and pained. "It hurt. Losing Wolfwood. It really fucking hurt." He sniffed, his jaw tightly clenched, and when his eyes finally opened, they were shining. "He was… the best friend I ever had. And you went after him because you were _jealous_?" he hissed. "I just wish you had a better fucking reason." He exhaled heavily and finally looked up, a tear spilling down his cheek.

Knives wished he could shrink away into nothingness.

Vash sniffed again and wiped his eyes, before sighing dismissively. "That being said, what's done is done. It's in the past. And I don't believe in living in the past." He straightened up and cleared his throat, obviously trying to compose himself. "I believe we should use it—learn from it—but people's mistakes shouldn't ruin their chance at a future. Even yours," he asserted, his eyes meeting Knives' with a crushing intensity.

Though it was clearly intended to be encouraging, there was a sharpness to the statement. It was a challenge, and one that Knives could _not_ fail.

It was funny, really; he'd spent so many decades trying to destroy Vash's faith in redemption, but now he _had_ to prove that his brother was right—that he _could_ change. That he _deserved_ a future.

The twins remained like that, silently observing, contemplating one another, until Knives finally broke and dropped his gaze.

Vash shifted on the bed and absently rubbed the back of his neck. "Not that any of this changes my answer to your original question. _Of course_, I'll help Kira. She can stay in here, with both of us. I'll watch over her at night until she has enough control."

Knives let out a breath of relief. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" Vash sounded surprised.

"No!" he answered hastily. "No, I—" He grimaced. "I was worried you'd think it was too soon, but… I knew you'd help her. I just…" He gazed at his brother thoughtfully for a moment. "I guess that's it. I _knew_ you'd help her—I never doubted it. Because you're _you_," he said, gesturing emphatically. "You're the most… generous… _selfless_ person I've ever known. And I always ask so much of you—you always _give_ so much for me." A pang of regret lanced through him and he let out a short, mirthless laugh. "I mean, you came here—even in the middle of all this—so that _I _could be here. You're probably the reason I'm alive at all," he said, thinking of the threadlike connection between them—the bond that kept him tethered to life even though he'd used all of his power. "You've always been there. Even before, when we fought… you always tried to get through to me. Thank you for that—for not giving up on me, even when I wouldn't listen; for being someone I can rely on. I wish I could have been that for you. I _want_ to be that for you."

Vash's gaze softened and he gave a gentle nod. "Yeah. I want that too."

"Will you ever be able to forgive me?" He cringed as soon as the words left his mouth—he was asking too much, as usual. "Sorry—you don't have to ans—"

"It's fine," Vash said with a faint smirk. "I…" He paused, his expression growing serious. "It's… complicated, you know? In some ways, I've already forgiven you. But at the same time, it's really hard to forget. And there are things—people—I don't _want_ to forget. I feel like I'm trying to balance all these conflicting pieces of myself, and it's just… it's going to take time."

"I understand. And… I'm sorry for pushing you. Take as much time you need." He forced a smile and then returned to his bed, switching off the light beside it and climbing under the covers.

After a few moments, a hushed voice cut the air.

"… Knives?"

His heart sped up. "Yes?"

"I guess… it might be nice if we could start talking again."

Knives' eyes closed and a small, relieved, incredibly grateful smile curved his lips. "Yes… I would like that very much."

x.x.x.x.x

They broached the new training strategy to Kira and the doctors the following day, and it was met with unanimous approval. That evening, Knives unfurled his bedroll on the floor. Kira tried to convince him to join her on the bed, but he flat-out refused. She was going to have a hard-enough time getting to sleep without trying to squeeze two people onto a mattress built for one.

They settled in for the night, and Knives' misgivings soon became a reality.

Every time Kira reached the edge of unconsciousness, her shield failed, and the voices came crashing down, sending her into panic. She regained control quickly enough, and Vash offered her brief periods of respite here and there, but as the night wore on, the grueling combination of recurrent battles and lack of sleep had her on the edge of tears.

The first rays of dawn were just beginning to paint the horizon when she finally managed to find sleep. Knives made his way to the window, pulled the drapes closed and went to the door.

"I'll let them know that training is cancelled for today," he whispered to Vash.

Honestly, it was the least he could do.

After yawning widely, Vash nodded, his eyes already drooping shut, and tugged a blanket over his head.

Knives went out into the dark hallway, shutting the door quietly behind him. He took a step and nearly tripped over a body slumped against the wall, snoring.

The rookie.

He sighed and glanced around for someone—_anyone_ else. The kid was, by far, the most outgoing of the soldiers, probably due to his lack of common sense. His affability-bordering-on-friendliness made Knives uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the house was still quiet. No one else was awake yet.

He knelt down, took the boy by the shoulders, and gave him a light shake. "Hey," he called softly. "Hey. You."

A pair of eyes fluttered open and the boy let out a startled yelp when he saw the face in front of him.

"Shhh!" Knives scolded. "Listen—I have a job for you. When the doctors wake up, I need you to tell them that Kira's lessons are cancelled. Do you understand?"

The boy blinked a few times. "Uh, yeah."

"We had a very trying night and need to recuperate. We are not to be disturbed."

He nodded. "Okay. I'll tell them."

"Good." Knives stood and turned to the door when a stifled sound stopped him.

The rookie quickly climbed to his feet. "Um… Are you going to tell the others I was asleep?" he finally stammered out.

Knives lifted a brow. "Why would I? Surely, I should _encourage_ the ineptitude of my captors."

"Right," he murmured, staring down at his shuffling feet.

Hm. Knives had the oddest sense that he should say something… reassuring? "You should be more careful, or your life may be forfeit someday."

… Okay, the boy looked even more uneasy than before.

That hadn't been reassuring at all, had it. Maybe he could try something else?

Knives lifted his hand, hesitated mid-air, and then committed, patting the rookie's shoulder awkwardly.

The kid's eyes went wide and Knives quickly dropped his arm.

Well, _that_ was a spectacular failure.

He cursed internally and turned, reaching for the door, but the boy's voice stopped him again.

"What happened there?" he asked, gesturing to Knives' forearm.

He glanced down as the crisscrossing scars that his long sleeves usually covered. Oh well. It wasn't like they were a secret.

"Garrow," he said simply

The rookie made a face. "The captain did _that_?"

"Not personally, but he gave the order."

He grimaced. "That must've hurt."

"Yes. It did." His fingers automatically traced over the scars. It was one of the most painful experiences of his life...

"I'm sorry."

The quietly spoken words roused Knives from his brief rumination, and he frowned. "What?"

"I said, I'm sorry." The boy's face was somber. "Sorry you went through all that," he added, as if to explain. "It wasn't right."

Knives was _far_ too tired for this. He offered a single nod in acknowledgement and swiftly retreated to the bedroom. Once the door was securely shut behind him, he let out a weary sigh and then made his way silently to his bedroll.

What a strange night…

He closed his eyes and let the sound of his companions' slow, even breathing settle his frazzled nerves.

At least Kira was a sound sleeper. It would make the entire process easier. This would probably be the most difficult thing for her to adjust to—having to shield herself at all hours. She was once again facing something she couldn't simply _learn_ how to do—she had to _condition_ her mind to react a certain way; to let shielding become her default state. But, her success boded well.

The worst was over.

He was glad Vash had been there to offer support and to coach her through the whole ordeal. She may have given up if it weren't for his gentle encouragement. Even if Knives _had_ been able to help, Vash was the better choice. He was good at handling things with delicacy.

Knives was… not.

He tended to be too direct. And harsh. And… stilted, apparently—his interaction with the rookie had made that perfectly clear. A small smile played over his lips at the thought of his botched attempt to… _whatever_ the hell he was trying to do.

Ridiculous.

Yes. It had been a _very_ strange night.

x.x.x.x.x

They slept well into the afternoon and spent the remainder of the day gathering strength for the trial ahead. Thankfully, the second and third nights went much more smoothly than the first, and they were able to return to their regular training schedule after that.

Now that his relationship with Vash was on the mend, Knives' mood greatly improved, and the remainder of the trip flew by. When they landed in Octovern, a pair of familiar faces waited in the hangar. Millie smiled and waved as they stepped off the shuttle, her guileless enthusiasm on full display. Meryl fairly threw herself into Vash's arms, and he caught her with a laugh, twirling her around before leaning down to kiss her.

"We've been waiting for you," she chided with a smirk when he finally let her go. "We're already set up," she said, turning to the doctors. "We can start whenever you're ready."

They left the soldiers to unload the shuttle and made their way to the lab. Once Kira was prepped, they began the assessment, and, to everyone's great excitement, her shield held! A _full minute_ passed, as they watched with bated breath, before she succumbed. Vash quickly swooped in, and a rowdy chorus of cheers sang through the lab. Even Kira was smiling widely, her face flushed.

Knives watched from across the room while Vash gave her pointers. He still wished _he_ could join in, but Millie's camera was trained on the pair.

Oh well. She was in good hands.

He wondered if Meryl had broken her story to the public yet. He glanced at the raven-hair reporter standing off to the side and was surprised to find her eyes fixed on him, her gaze sharp.

Having been caught glaring, she lifted her chin in a display of self-assuredness and made her way over to him.

"Meryl," he greeted evenly. "I hope you've been well."

"I hope _you_ realize how lucky you are to have a brother who's so damn compassionate," she retorted, carefully keeping her voice low so the conversation stayed between them.

She was angry—not that it was a surprise. "Yes, I do. I know I don't deserve his kindness, but I'm grateful for it. And I'll try to become worthy."

Her eyes widened a bit, and then she scoffed. "Good luck with that," she muttered, sitting beside him

"It does seem like an impossible task," he said, watching his brother work with Kira, "but it's all I can do." He tapped a finger absently on the table. "I'm sorry I took him away from you. I'm sure it was difficult being parted from him."

"Please. I'm an investigative reporter," she said dismissively. "Long-distance relationships come with the territory." Her gaze softened. "I am glad to have him back though. And I'll miss him when he leaves again," she finished tenderly.

"You have my gratitude."

She shook her head. "It's his choice, not mine."

"Not everyone would be so accommodating. If nothing else, I thank you for letting him make a choice."

"Well, he's letting me make _my_ choice. It wouldn't be right if I didn't do the same."

Ah. Volunteering. "So… do you have an answer for him?"

"As if I'd tell you before him."

He smiled. "No. I suppose not."

A brief silence fell, and she looked over at him timidly. "Knives," she began, her manner strangely diffident, "there's something I think you should know."

He lifted a brow in question, and she quailed a bit, dropping her gaze to her fidgeting hands.

"… I was the one who betrayed you—back on the ship. I told Luida you were coming, and we decided it would be best to hand you over to the Federation. I never imagined they'd do what they did, and I'm… truly sorry."

He blinked and exhaled slowly as her words sunk in. "I… had my suspicions." Granted, he'd all but dropped them when she was present after he was rescued—he assumed Vash would have broken contact if she were the one at fault. He should have known better.

Regardless…

"I can't exactly blame you," he admitted. After all, he'd threatened her nearly the moment they met. And that was on top of his already less-than-shining legacy. "What you did was… logical."

If he'd been in her position, he probably would have done the same. He _had_ done the same. She saw him as a threat to her kind and she fought back.

"I hope you can forgive me," she said uncertainly.

He couldn't help but smile, and then a quiet chuckle spilled from his lips. "You're asking for _my_ forgiveness?" he said, meeting her gaze in amused disbelief.

She looked stricken. "I wouldn't do it now. I mean—knowing you as I do."

He laughed again and shook his head. "You don't need to explain. I understand, completely. I'm just amazed that you care about my opinion at all." His smile softened. "If you want my forgiveness, then you have it."

A look of surprise passed over her face, but it was quickly replaced by something else—something puzzled and pleased, that hovered on the border of affection. "When all this is done, I'll do everything I can to see that Olowe follows through with his promises," she stated firmly. "You _will_ be set free."

He nodded and tried to ignore the slight warmth in his cheeks. A comfortable silence settled, and his gaze once again drifted to Vash. "… He really loves you, you know. He missed you."

She looked over and smirked. "Well, I intend to make it up to him," she said slyly.

He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Please, let that be the end of this conversation."

She laughed.

x.x.x.x.x

When they returned to the desert, Knives was fully prepared for a slow, gradual healing process with Vash, but on the first night, after they'd retired to their beds, the dam holding back his brother's thoughts broke, and a deluge of words came flooding out. Apparently, Meryl _had_ decided to volunteer, and Vash was brimming with a mixture of excitement over their future together, and worry that she would regret her choice. He spent hours venting his feelings to the person who could understand him the most, and Knives did his best to listen and to ease his brother's concerns.

Long conversations soon became a regular occurrence between the twins. They talked about a wide variety of topics—some serious, and some inane—and as they spoke, the torn fabric of their relationship was carefully stitched back together.

Knives' relationship with the soldiers was also improving. The rookie had shocked the hell out of everyone when he invited Knives to join in a round of poker. And Knives had doubled their shock by accepting. After that, the soldiers started to include him—at least occassionally.

As time went on, the trips into the desert became more and more routine. Kira gained a solid handle on the various aspects of telepathy. Knives even trained her on the manipulative techniques, though convincing Vash to go along with it had been a headache. Eventually, he ran out of things to teach her, but she was still far from finished.

Her progress during the assessments had plateaued rather quickly. The skills she mastered in the desert were rendered useless against the overwhelming roar of the city.

It had been months since her training began, and though she could now hold the voices off for a few minutes at a time, they would inevitably crash through her shield. With intensive, focused effort, she could regain control, but the repeated battles chipped away at the length of time she could maintain her shield.

"I can't do it," she murmured breathlessly, still panting after her latest mental skirmish. "I can't go from a dozen people to _this_."

Vash nodded in agreement. "We need to find a way to bridge the gap between the input where we're training, and the input here." He sighed. "We need more people—that's the only solution. Not a city's worth, but… I don't know, a town's?"

"Yes!" Meryl all but shouted. "That would be _such_ good exposure! We could travel from town to town, raising awareness. Maybe even giving demonstrations? And at the same time, Kira could develop her… er…" Her brows came together as she struggled to find the word. "… resistance? It's perfect!"

Kira glanced at Knives. "Only one problem—what about him?"

All eyes turned to Knives; whose lips curved in a wry smile. "I'll be waiting here for your return."

Kira frowned. "We'll ask Olowe."

Knives shook his head. "Even if he trusted me to that extent, we can't risk the public learning of my survival."

"Maybe we could pass you off as a plant from the Federation," Millie said with a shrug. "We could say you offered to help with the training."

Huh. Knives had never considered pretending to be _from_ the Federation. The few independents he'd seen _did_ have similar physical features—they were tall, elegant, fine-boned, with near perfect facial-symmetry. He probably _could_ pass himself off as one of them.

Except…

"Maybe, if I was travelling alone. But if Vash and I travel together, people are bound to notice the resemblance."

"What about a disguise—like before?" Millie offered.

Meryl pursed her lips. "It'd have to be one hell of a disguise."

"It's not worth the risk," Knives said with finality. "The most important thing is Kira's training. I will remain here."

x.x.x.x.x

Knives trailed a hand over Kira's bare shoulder as she lay curled against him. The admiral had agreed to the plan. Preparations had been made and the team would depart in the morning, which meant this was his last night with Kira for… a while.

He honestly wasn't sure how long they'd be gone. They were taking the shuttle, but since they'd be going to various towns, they'd be able to stock up on supplies as they travelled, which meant they probably wouldn't return until Kira was ready.

He tightened his arm around her and she let out a contented sigh. At least their night had been memorable—he'd made sure of that.

She was dozing now.

In less than nine hours, she'd be gone…

And Vash would be gone.

Meryl and Millie would be gone.

Lark and Gray would be gone.

Hell—a good number of the soldiers were probably going too.

He was surprised at how comfortable he'd become in their strange little community. He felt safe with these people, even though he was still technically imprisoned at the heart of the Federation. But without them…?

Well.

Even without them, he was no longer afraid for his life, or of being locked away somewhere. He and the admiral weren't exactly on _good_ terms, but they weren't on bad terms either. So far, Olowe had proven himself to be an honorable man. Aside from that, some of the soldiers would remain, so Knives wasn't entirely alone—even if they still weren't really _friends_.

Really, it could be worse. And it was worth it if Kira could finally be free of the collar.

He'd be fine.

He would.

He had to be.


	35. Chapter 35

Knives spent the next week and a half languishing. He knew it was childish, but he didn't care and let himself sink into bored, lonely despair. Though the suite was relatively comfortable, there wasn't much to do there. His saving grace was that he had enough room to exercise—to some extent. And, given that his life hadn't been very physically demanding in quite a while, he wouldn't waste the opportunity to recondition his body.

But that could only entertain him for so long.

He stared listlessly at the ceiling from where he'd collapsed on the floor, a sheen of sweat cooling his skin. He'd worked himself to exhaustion, and it wasn't even midday. He heaved a sigh—lying like this reminded him of his previous bout of isolated captivity. He really should get up and do… something. Lunch maybe? Or a nap? A shower was definitely in order.

… At some point.

He was still mid-deliberation when the door slid open and an unexpected guest stepped through, looking as haughty as ever.

"Chronica," he said in astonishment, climbing to his feet.

She raised a critical brow at his disheveled state. "Knives."

"What are you doing here?" He hadn't seen her in months—not since they'd first been brought to the ship.

"I heard you were left behind and thought I'd stop by to see if you had perished."

"So sorry to disappoint," he muttered.

She walked over and settled on one of the couches. "Come now—we're not enemies, are we?"

He eyed her skeptically and took a seat across from her. "Are we?"

She smirked. "If I were an enemy, I'd let you continue wasting away. But instead, I'm here to keep you company. So, tell me—how are you?"

"As well as can be expected."

She stared at him flatly. "Coming from you, that's not very encouraging."

He huffed. "I'm fine."

"And how long do you intend to keep yourself locked up like this?"

"I wasn't aware there was another option."

"Please," she scoffed, "You're more ambitious than that. If you _wanted_ freedom, you would test the limits of your captivity before accepting it so fully. The fact that you haven't suggests that you're intentionally confining yourself."

She was right, of course. He was fairly certain the soldiers would be willing take him to the dining hall, at the very least. But that would require socializing, and socializing sounded… difficult.

At his continued silence, she frowned sourly. "This kind of seclusion can weigh heavily on a person's mind."

"I'm _fine_," he repeated sharply.

"The admiral isn't convinced."

Ah… so that's why she had come by.

He smiled thinly. "He sent you to check on me."

"He is legitimately concerned," she countered, "and he has every reason to be. If your self-imposed isolation is degrading your mental state, we need to know."

"It's _not_—" he sputtered, "I'm just—tired." He scowled at her patronizing look. "And I'm _not_ alone—not entirely anyway. Vash left a sat-phone with me. I speak to him and Kira most nights." Granted, he knew they were both busy and did his best to hide his indolent sulking from them.

He wondered if Chronica would reprimand him for concealing the pilfered device, but instead, she smiled shrewdly. "I see. And how are they?"

"They are well," he answered. "They've already passed through a few small settlements, showing off Kira's skills—creating water, growing plants, changing the soil. That kind of thing." He did his best to keep the sullenness from his voice, but appartently he was unsuccessful.

Her brow quirked. "You sound unhappy."

"Can you blame me? She's draining her energy every time she gives one of those demonstrations."

"Yes. But it's important to show people what we'll be able to accomplish and _why _their help is so important. We can still shape this planet—"

"_They_ will shape the planet," he said crossly. "You and the rest of the Federation aren't doing a damn thing."

"I'm sure many of our members will volunteer," she retorted, her voice stern. "And believe me, we'd do more if we could. It would save us the headache that this process will be."

Knives narrowed his eyes. "How are you planning on controlling these new plants?"

"Collars, of course, while they're being trained. And some kind of signed statement that they will contribute energy until their hair has darkened to an agreed upon level. After that, I believe we will remove the collars and that will be the end of it."

"An 'agreed upon level?'"

"Well, we _obviously_ can't allow a fully powered first-generation independent to run free, as I'm _sure_ you can understand," she snapped. "The primary issue is that it's not an exact science. We can measure each plant's flow, but not the depth of their well of energy. The darkening effect is the only way to judge it."

"And after you remove the collars?"

"That's the part we're still working out. Any potential candidates will need to be educated on the laws governing plants like us. And I imagine there will be a few agitators we will need to deal with, but most of these new plants will have all the freedom they could want."

He went silent and her brow furrowed in frustration.

"You should be happy, you know. Kira _will_ be set free."

"She'll be set free with no energy left," he mumbled.

"Does that matter? _She_ doesn't seem to think so."

He sighed. "No, I suppose not. I just don't like seeing her used."

"She's not being used. She chose this."

"… I know," he said dully. She was right—this was what Kira wanted.

Chronica stared at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then sniffed. "Good," she said pertly. "Then let's stop discussing it. Get yourself cleaned up and we'll play cards or something."

x.x.x.x.x

The next day, following Chronica's prodding, he decided that the time had come to venture out. He was pleased to discover the rookie, one of the soldiers who had remained behind, was on duty as his guard. The boy grinned widely when Knives asked to be escorted to the dining hall for a meal. It wasn't the most exciting exploit, but it was a start.

After he'd eaten and returned to his room, the kid offered to drop in to play a round of cards sometime, and Knives couldn't think of a good reason not to accept.

As the days passed, Knives gradually grew more venturous and was surprised to find he had more leeway than expected. As usual, he was restricted to the medical wing, but that included the lab, which meant he had limited access to the ship's computer system—notably, their digital library which contained books and periodicals on a number of subjects he found quite interesting.

One corner of the lab had also been reconfigured for ongoing observation of the various plants Kira had created—in particular, how hearty they were and their ability to fruit and seed. Gray had rigged the makeshift greenhouse with automatic water and light, so it was largely self-maintaining, the plants did require occassional pruning. Yes, there was a bit of irony in the task, but Knives found it to be a soothing distraction.

Chronica stopped by frequently. In exchange for news about Vash, Kira and the others, she regaled Knives with reports regarding the Federation and the planet in general.

Meryl and Millie's coverage had become a widespread phenomenon. Kira's story had always been popular, but her recent displays of power after months of struggle inspired renewed interest, and her travels with Vash brought attention to the small communities on the edge of civilization who were barely managing to survive. Meryl was quick to play her up as a figurehead for the campaign to save the planet.

And, the timing was impeccable—Kira's increased fame coincided nicely with Garrow's trial.

When all was said and done, it was an open-and-shut case. The techs provided ample evidence and testified against him in exchange for lighter sentences. Knives wished he could have been there in person to see the damn bastard get his comeuppance, but Chronica had been present and was kind enough to share her memory of it with him. The captain's furious invective when his sentence was announced brought a sneer to Knives' lips.

He knew it was probably wrong—finding such gratification in Garrow's misery—but he couldn't deny a vindictive satisfaction that the _former_ captain would spend the rest of his days behind bars.

A month dragged by. Then two. Knives somehow managed to stay busy.

The rookie continued to drop by when he had time, as did Chronica. The blond plant even went so far as to bring a familiar visitor—Dr. Michaels. In an encouraging show of foresight, all Federation surgeons with experience installing the cerebral collars had been transferred to Octovern and were tasked with training local surgeons on the procedure as well.

Knives was pleased to see the man—especially when Michaels let it slip that the Federation had begun reaching out for volunteers and was already vetting the first round of respondents.

It was good to know that things were moving forward.

Another month passed, and though life had fallen into a passable normalcy, Knives was still anxious for his friends' return. Hearing about their travels was a small comfort. They were currently staying on the floating ship, and Kira was happy to reconnect with Panse, who had been keeping tabs since they'd informed him of Garrow's treachery.

Apparently, when the ambassador had learned of the Federation's plan to terraform the planet, he decided to take action. Having witnessed terraforming under similarly harsh environmental conditions, Panse shared everything he knew about the process with Luida, and she, in turn, convinced her crew to serve as the custodians of supplemental agricultural equipment—since creating fertile farmland would be the highest priority.

Coordinating with the Federation, the residents of the Melca Border ship would manufacture, install, and help to maintain drip irrigation, windbreaks and moisture containment systems, as well as any vehicles necessary for large scale crop production. Though the new independents would eventually humidify the atmosphere, it would take time. These systems would be a shield agains the aridity, and they would help to maintain soil fecundity in any terraformed regions.

Kira was absolutely thrilled with the idea.

Knives was more thrilled that she could survive on the densely populated ship. It _couldn't_ be long now. At least, he hoped not.

Kira and Vash—and everyone, really—were exasperatingly discreet when discussing the anticipated timeline. He knew that things were picking up steam. The Federation had started construction on a handful of facilities in the desert to house the plants-in-training. But he had no clue if it would take a few weeks, or months, or even a damn year before the buildings would be ready. Before the Federation would be ready.

Before Kira would be ready.

Even after she returned to Octovern, how long would it be before she was really free?

Knives sighed gruffly and turned his attention back to the small collection of plants he was currently tending to. He was just starting to relax when the swoosh of the door diverted his attention.

Chronica stepped into the lab, a preemptive smirk on her lips. "It will forever astound me that you're actually _good_ with plants," she drawled, taking in the thriving florae.

He sighed and set down his sheers. They were on decent terms, but 'decent terms' for her still included deriding him at every opportunity. "Can I help you?"

"You can, actually. There's something I need you to do," she said cryptically.

He frowned in question, but her only response was to beckon him forward. He followed her into the hall, where she instructed his lone guard to remain behind. The man seemed mildly confused at the order, but Chronica held enough authority that he didn't protest.

She led onward in silence, and Knives grew more and more curious as her path took him further into the ship than he was usually allowed. Luckily, none of the people they passed paid them much attention, but Knives still felt like he was on display.

"Where are we going?" he finally asked. Did the admiral know about this?

"I'm going to introduce you to some people," she intoned.

He balked. "Who?"

"You'll see." Chronica's sly smile did nothing to ease his mind.

After several more minutes of walking, they finally reached their destination, and when Knives entered, his step faltered. She had brought him to some sort of formal conference room containing a long, stately table. At that table sat a group of willowy, elegant figures sporting flaxen blond hair occassionally edged with varying amounts of black who chatted softly amongst themselves.

Plants. More than he'd ever seen before.

"Come," Chronica said, "they're eager to meet you."

She _had_ to be fucking with him. He looked over at her, and his confusion must have been clear.

She rolled her eyes, as if his reason for being there were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're one of two people who has experience training a human," she explained. "Assuming Kira succeeds, these people will be your successors—they will train the volunteers. And they have questions."

Apparently, that was all the explanation he was going to get, because she strode forward and Knives had no choice but to follow. A hush fell as they made their way to the head of the table. Still standing, Chronica gave him a final sidelong glance, sardonically arching brow, as if in challenge, before turning to the assembly.

"Let's not waste any time," she said dispassionately. "You all know why you're here, and you all know who the man standing beside me is. You know what he's done—for better or worse—but, you've agreed to look toward the future, rather than to dwell in the past. That being said, I would like to reiterate that your discretion in this matter is imperitive." She cast a weighted gaze around the room. "So, without further ado, I would like to introduce you to 'Alex.'"

Knives blinked in surprise and looked over at Chronica, only to have her shove him forward a step, causing him to stumble so he had to catch himself on the table in front of him.

Okay, she was _definitely_ fucking with him.

His heart pounded and he internally cursed the damnable woman as he straightened up, his cheeks burning. He swallowed and inclined his head. "Hello." His eyes moved slowly from face to face as he forced his nerves calm. "It is my great privelage to meet you all."

x.x.x.x.x

He sank gratefully into bed that night.

The day had been long, but fruitful. The other independents were excited by the prospect of teaching newly created plants—and in that, Knives had found common ground with them. They were remarkably amiable. He was shocked, actually, but the conversation topic remained focused on the goal at hand, and his past crimes were largely ignored. Though he probably wouldn't need to meet with them again, he offered to be available for any further questions they might have.

A smile curved his lips. Over a year had passed since he woke up in the bulb. If someone had told him back then that he'd end up helping the Federation and trying to save humanity, he would have…

Well. He probably would have slaughtered them.

He cringed at the thought.

So much had changed. For the better. _He_ had changed, more than he thought possible. He could finally see a path ahead of him—a real, _achievable_ route toward redemption.

And he was so close. Maybe—if a few more things went the way he hoped—maybe it could become a reality.

x.x.x.x.x

Barely a week had passed when Chronica came through the door to the suite, her face unusually stony. Knives tensed and immediately rose to his feet.

"What's wrong?"

She pursed her lips, her brows knitting together ever-so-slightly. "They're back."

His heart leapt to his throat and she held up a hand to silence him before he shouted 'what's wrong' again at the top of his lungs. Her demeanor was _far_ from reassuring!

"Everyone is fine, before you ask. They're in the lab, waiting for you."

He gave her a sharp nod. "Let's go—now."

x.x.x.x.x

His feet moved swiftly down the path they knew so well. When they reached the the lab he nearly jumped out of his skin when his guard fumbled the keycode and had to reenter it. After the second attempt, the door slid open. Knives bolted through it and then stopped short.

There was Vash. And the girls. And the doctors.

And Kira, her hair jet-black, except for a shock of brown at her left temple. He blinked several times, and a sheepish smile crept across her lips.

"H-how?" he stammered.

She looked down and shrugged. "I used up my energy."

"You would have been proud," Vash said stalwartly. "She convinced so many people to help us."

Knives felt like the world had been knocked off its axis. He stared blankly for another moment before he found his tongue. "So… so you're done? Entirely? And, your telepathy…?" He glanced at her neck and noticed for the first time that it was bare. His eyes widened and she laughed.

"Yeah. It worked. No collar." As if to prove it, he felt a slight prickle as she nudged him mentally.

He let out a breathless laugh. "Then, what now?"

She straightened up. "Now, we speak to Olowe about getting you out of here."

"Right," Knives said ruefully, realizing he hadn't had a chance to share his plan with the others yet. "About that…"

x.x.x.x.x

The admiral's face gave nothing away. He had graciously responded to their request that he come to the lab to speak with them, and now stood stoically as Knives explained the situation.

"I've already met many of the plants who will be working with the volunteers," he said slowly, "I thought I might be able to join them—to help with the training."

Olowe's brows raised in surprise.

"We could lie about my identity," he continued. "Tell them I came to the planet aboard your ship."

"You want to hide from _within_ the Federation?"

"In part," he admitted, "But… I also want to help."

The admiral stared at Knives as if he wasn't quite sure what to make of him. "You want to help the humans?"

"I want to help those I've hurt. I want to make up for my past—to do something good, for once."

"Hm." Olowe eyed him critically.

"If we stay, you'll be able to keep a closer eye on him," Kira added.

"Oh, I can see the benefits in _that_," Olowe confessed. "I'm just trying to weigh the danger of removing his collar at all. Not to mention the likelihood that he'll use such a position to manipulate the plants under his care."

Knives bristled a little, but kept his mouth shut as the admiral's wary gaze landed on him.

"How can I be sure you aren't trying to—" he gestured vaguely, "—amass an army or some such nonsense?"

Chronica stepped forward. "I'll see to it personally that he follows whatever agreement you make."

Olowe's pursed his lips and gave Knives a hard, calculating stare. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to keep the collar on?"

The blue-eyed plant's lips twisted into a grimace. In truth, he _would_ be willing if it was a requirement for his freedom, but he'd damn well be bitter about it.

"Surely that won't be necessary," Vash said, his voice carefully controlled. Knives and Olowe broke their standoff to look at him. He was smiling, but his eyes glinted coldly. "Knives won't cause any trouble. Right?" he said, with a glance at his brother.

"Of course not," Knives answered quickly.

"Besides," Vash said, turning back to the admiral with a half-shrug, "It kinda seems like that might draw attention to him; maybe give away his identity."

Olowe seemed to consider the words and then offered a not-entirely-convinced hum. "Very well. I am _choosing_ to trust you," he said, his gaze returning to Knives. "But you should know—you will be expected to follow the same moral and ethical code that _all _independent plants adhere to. If you act uncivilly, or violate anyone's mental privacy, or do anything else I deem unsuitable, I will have no choice but to put the collar back on. And I will be watching you, _very_ closely. Don't disappoint me."

x.x.x.x.x

Dim lights glowed overhead.

Knives blinked dazedly as the last few hours came flooding back. After Olowe departed, there had been a brief celebration that involved far too much hugging and jostling from far too many people. He remembered how surreal everything felt. It wasn't until Lark asked him if he wanted to have the collar removed right away or if he'd prefer to wait until the next day that the magnitude of the situation struck him.

He remembered bidding a brief farewell to the others, and the walk to the surgical room, and being given a sedative…

His heart fluttered as he noticed the lack of restraint around his mind.

Yes… He was free.

He pushed himself up and found Kira dozing in a chair beside his bed. The sound of his movement roused her, and she sat with a yawn. Her gaze fell on him and everything about her brightened.

"How do you feel?" she asked.

A grin spread across his lips and he closed his eyes, sending all of his happiness over to her.

She laughed, her cheeks going pink. "Oh. Good." Her smile faltered and her brow wrinkled slightly. "And you're not upset? That I used my energy?"

"I do wish that I had known."

She nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry. It just kinda happened. And I didn't want you agonizing over it." She sighed. "I know that's no excuse for keeping it from you."

"I agonized anyway," he said wryly.

She winced. "Sorry," she mumbled again.

He smirked. "I'll admit—I am glad it's over. I would have hated it if you returned, only to leave again. At least this way we can be together—for good."

"Yeah," she said, smiling again, her eyes soft. She stood and made her way to the bed, lacing her fingers with his. "I really missed you." She cupped his cheek and leaned down, gently brushing her lips against his, obviously trying to be careful with his recently-operated-upon neck.

And yes, the incision site ached, but he honestly didn't give a damn about the pain right now.

He tugged her closer, kissing her more deeply, and fervently, and passionately, again and again until the necessity of air finally drove them apart. "I've missed you as well," he panted into the space between their lips, loving that he could see her trembling. "Shall we return to our room and make up for lost time?" he enticed roguishly.

She grinned and pulled back, straightening her somewhat touseled clothes and hair. "Okay—yes—but we might have to wait a little longer. I _did_ promise Vash I'd let him know as soon as you woke up and he _did_ mention having a 'proper' celebration."

Knives groaned and made a face. "Drinking?"

"Most likely."

x.x.x.x.x

Upon Kira's call, Vash rushed over to the suite with Meryl, Millie, and even Chronica in tow, and revelry involving _more_ hugging ensued. As predicted, drinking was a key factor, though some people were imbibing more than others. Little more than an hour had passed since the festivity began, and Vash was already three sheets to the wind. He had been spouting enthusiastic declarations of appreciation toward everyone since he arrived, but they were growing more effusive by the minute.

"He's not gonna last much longer," Meryl pronounced dryly, watching Vash, who had an arm around Millie's shoulders and was spouting off about the tall brunette's amazing cinematic skills.

"You're welcome to stay," Kira offered, and Knives nodded in agreement.

Meryl glanced over in amusement at the now wildly gesturing broom-haired plant. "I'll pass, but would you mind if he slept it off here? I think the walk home might be too much for him."

"Not at all," Kira said amenably.

A loud yelp cut through the air, and they turned to find Vash with his arm twisted behind his back, trapped in Chronica's grip. She released him and he stepped back with a pout.

"I don't do _hugs_," she muttered, reaching for the drink she'd placed on the table beside her.

"Geez—sorry," he whined, rubbing his wrist. "I just wanted to say thanks, for helping Knives and getting him in with Olowe and everything."

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said dismissively. "Everything I did was to benefit the humans and the Federation." But a subtle half-smile curved her lips. She looked over at Knives and the smile became a smirk. "Besides, watching him try to 'blend in' with the other plants is sure to be entertaining. Especially if _you're_ anywhere nearby," she amended with a glance a Vash.

He blinked, swaying a little. "… Because we look alike?"

"Precisely. I quite enjoyed his previous attempts to disguise himself."

Vash stared drunkenly at Knives. "I don't know. With that scruff he has going, we don't look _completely_ identical."

Knives put a hand to his chin. He still hated beards, but it _was_ the easiest way to change his appearance. "At least I don't look like my wanted poster now," he muttered.

Chronica eyed him appraisingly and raised a brow.

He ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly less sure. The cut _was_ different than the one he'd worn most of his life.

Somewhat.

"And hey," Vash piped up, "there's always sunglasses."

Kira couldn't contain a snort and Knives felt himself flush.

Chronica looked positively delighted. "Yes. I'm sure this will be _very_ entertaining."

x.x.x.x.x

Within an hour, Vash was snoring loudly on the couch.

Meryl, Millie and Chronica took their leave while Knives observed his brother with mild incredulity. "Meryl was wise to leave him behind," he said drolly. "I'd forgotten how loud he can be."

Kira chuckled and tugged his arm, drawing him into their room.

"I don't care how loud he is—as long as it's out there," she murmured, closing the door behind them and pulling Knives down to meet her lips.

He smiled into the kiss. She made a good point.

x.x.x.x.x

A light mental nudge woke Knives some hours later and he stared at the clock beside him through sleep hazed eyes.

Six a.m.

_Vash…?_

… _Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you. Just wanted to see if you were up._

Knives pushed himself out of bed, careful not to shift the sleeping body beside him, and went out to the living room where he found Vash, hunched forward on the couch, sipping a glass of water. "Hungover?" he asked with a wry grin.

"I will be, once I sober up the rest of the way," Vash said with a wince. "I take it Meryl left?"

Knives took a seat beside him. "Indeed."

He grimaced. "And exactly how big a fool did I make of myself?"

Knives chuckled. "You were… exuberant. But as endearing as ever."

Vash sighed and dragged a hand down his face. "And how annoyed was she?"

"She was more amused than annoyed. You're lucky."

Vash smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah."

"How is she," Knives asked. Since Kira had officially 'succeeded' in surviving the serum, it wouldn't be long before it was Meryl's turn. "Is she prepared for the change?"

"She's a little tense, but she's ready. She's told everyone she needs to, and I think she's looking forward to the challenge." He let out a short laugh. "Well. That, and documenting _everything_."

"Do you know when it will happen?"

"I think they're planning on administering the serum to the preliminary group in another couple weeks. They'll probably be fitted with collars beforehand. And then have maybe a few days of recovery. Then training."

"That soon?"

Vash shrugged. "Everything's ready. There's no point in wasting time."

Knives went silent. Everything was changing so damn _quickly_.

Now it was Vash's turn to grin slyly. "Nervous?"

He blinked. "Yes," he answered honestly. "Aren't you?"

Vash's smile softened and he dropped his gaze. "A little. But I know she's gonna be fine. She's the strongest, smartest, most beautiful, most resilient, most amazing person I know."

Knives contained a smirk at his brother's unrestrained zeal. "She certainly is determined. I'm sure she'll be leading the pack."

Vash laughed. "The real struggle is gonna be keeping her from overworking herself!" He leaned back, his lips still curved, his eyes still crinkled and released a pleased sigh. After a moment, he looked over. "I'm really glad you're staying here, by the way," he said softly. "I was kinda worried you and Kira would take off once you were free. Honestly, I didn't think there was even a way you'd be able to stick around. But this… It's perfect. Everything is perfect."

Knives smiled, a warmth spreading through him. "Yes. I still can't really believe it. This is more than I could have hoped for."

"It's definitely not the future _I_ expected," Vash said with another slight laugh.

"No," Knives agreed. "I can say, with certainty, that I _never_ imagined this was even within the outermost realm of possibility. But. I'm glad it's the future we found." He cast a sidelong glance at his brother and felt his own wave of effusiveness. He voiced the words quickly, before his reticence could push them down. "I love you, Vash."

Vash looked over in surprise—it had been well over a century since those words had passed between them. His lips curved in a boyish grin and nudged Knives with his elbow. "Nerd."

x.x.x.x.x

Knives' chest rose and fell, as did Kira's arm, lazily draped across it. She snuggled closer against his shoulder and hummed in contentment.

"We'll have to get up soon," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

"Mnnn," she mumbled. "Big day."

He smiled. "Very big day," he agreed.

The preliminary round of volunteers had survived and today, they would be shuttled out to begin their training. Vash, Knives, _and_ Kira, along with some of the other plants would be accompanying them as teachers.

It was time for the next stage to begin.

Kira yawned and sat up, scrubbing a hand through her hair and rubbing her eyes. She looked down at Knives, a crooked, sleepy smile on her lips. "So, are you ready?"

"I am," he said with a cocky smirk.

She arched a brow. "So confident."

"Why wouldn't I be? You may have forgotten, but I am a _very_ good teacher."

She snorted. "And so modest."

"And intelligent."

"So, _incredibly_, modest…"

"And attractive. The perfect being, if I do say so myself."

"Did I mention the modesty?"

"You may have."

"And?" she said, her eyes twinkling. "What am I?"

He paused, thinking. "Very fun to annoy. And cute as hell when you're angry."

She attacked without warning, going for a spot she knew to be particularly ticklish. He let out an undignified squawk, batting her hands away, and then lunged forward in retaliation, and pinning her beneath him as he pressed merciless kisses to her face and neck. She released helpless, giddy shrieks of laughter until he found her lips and silenced her.


End file.
